The Curse of Miracles
by eloquentfever
Summary: NEW: AU post "On My Way." Kurt and Blaine are more than surprised to see Sebastian try to be nice. His parents feel relieved that Sebastian has gone off his rebellious phase. The Warblers become close friends with their semi-decent captain. Nobody thought it was suspicious… until Sebastian has a seizure. Apparently, brain tumours could change your personality? Pairing undecided! TW
1. Seeing Dave in the Hospital

Warnings: This could get super dark late in the fanfiction. **And there is a 90% chance that this will end with Sebastian dying. **

For those that read 'Eat Your Words', the characterisation of the same characters here are a little different. Hope it's interesting though. I know it says no pairing decided yet, and from the looks of this chapter, it's like it's going into a Sebofsky angle, but that's mostly for characterisation. Because nicer Sebastian doesn't know how to say no to Dave, so that's mostly why it's going that way. There's a huge chance that there's going to split, and it's not like it's going to be Sebofsky heavy (at least that's not the plan, unless other people think it should be).

There is really two major planned parts so far. Most of the first part is pre-diagnosis and it's going to be Sebastian building relationships with people.

Summary: AU after "On My Way." Kurt and Blaine are more than surprised to see Sebastian really attempt at being nice. His supportive parents feel relieved that Sebastian has gone off his rebellious phase. The Warblers become close friends with their semi-decent captain. Nobody thought it was suspicious… not until Sebastian has a seizure. Apparently, brain tumours could change your personality? No pairing decided yet.

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter One: Seeing Dave in the Hospital

* * *

Sebastian Smythe rolled the sleeve of his honey-coloured plaid shirt up, and then leaned back against an old hospital chair that was currently giving him a mini prostate exam (kind of a bonus. What? He was a gay. He liked things that poked at his prostate). Sebastian couldn't wait until he was eighty and had a huge prostate. He bet getting fucked would be _amazing._ He'd trade a good orgasm for the ability to take a piss. Plus, didn't you orgasm better with a full bladder? _Come on_.

"Earth to Sebastian?" Dave Karofsky, the guy that he was visiting for the past week, tried to take him out of his trance.

Sebastian was busy trying to imagine having a prostate exam by a Puerto Rican doctor that spoke with a heavy accent. He was only bought back to reality with Dave's husky laugh penetrated (ha, he wished) the room and probably caused an earthquake. Sebastian could feel his chair vibrating, which was _not_ helping him, or his overactive imagination.

"What kind of sick fuck gets a _boner_ in a _hospital?"_ Dave Karofsky asked. Normal people would start blushing when their hard dicks started straining against their pants, but Sebastian had a big dick. He was proud of showing off. "Seriously? Is your mom proud of her little ickle Sebastian getting off in the room of the guy that tried to kill himself?"

_"Hey!"_ Sebastian just crossed his arms over his chest. "_I_ didn't get laid this week, okay?" he explained. "Sue me."

_"This week?" _Dave asked him incredulously. "A week is all you need to start wanting to hump yourself against _a chair?" _

Sebastian just rolled his eyes. He hadn't gone a week without sleeping with someone since he'd started actively having sex when he was fourteen. His mom had to drive him to the STD clinic at fifteen. Which he probably shouldn't tell the bear cub in case he'd faint. Sebastian didn't feel like lifting two-hundred pounds of grizzly with his lacrosse sticks. Especially _not_ when he was really trying to fight this pulsating boner that almost took his mind off the fact that he could still smell Kurt Hummel's girly guy cologne from last week. If he closed his eyes long enough, he could still hear the horrific click-clock of his size baby goose feet. _Gag_. It was like a gay stereotype solidified into a person. He'd say _fuck him,_ but the idea made Sebastian reel because he might as well be banging pussy if he was going to slide into bed with the princess.

"It's a good chair," Sebastian tried to argue, leaning back against it. "It's not my fault you can't help but check me out."

Dave was just smiling at him. "You know… you were cute before I realised how much of an arrogant asshole you are."

Sebastian smirked, beaming at Dave's pale face. "_I'm_ arrogant?" he feigned a look of shock. "Would an arrogant asshole such as myself be helping you _not_ fail math? Would an arrogant asshole like myself let you use _his calculator?"_ he gestured towards the immense spillage of material around Dave, including Sebastian's cheap calculator that somehow survived three drunk nights out and being thrown into a toilet (yes, Sebastian _did_ fish it out. He couldn't afford another one.)

Dave groaned and then leaned back against his bed. Sebastian thought he was going to (yet again) mention that they should ban math for anyone that was in the hospital for more than three days. The pile of homework sitting beside him was intimidating to Sebastian, and he had a report he had to hand in next week that he was supposed to be working on _now_. Instead of humping a chair in a guy's hospital room. The guy that he told should stay in the closet.

_Yeah, you're right_, Dave said a few hours back when they mentioned that. _I ain't that good at dressing up. _

"This thing makes me want to hang myself," Dave said, rolling his eyes. Sebastian paled. "Oh! Sorry. I forgot."

"You _forgot_ that you tried to hang yourself?" Sebastian mumbled, rubbing his tired green eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Dave went red in the face, and then cleared his throat. Sebastian had been visiting Dave for a week now, and they were supposed to have discharged him like forty-eight hours after they made sure that he didn't croak. But apparently, he had a weird thing in his heart, so they strung him down with heart leads. Sebastian was pretty sure that Dave's heart just raced whenever he saw him (_yeah fucking right_, Dave said when Sebastian told him that. _I'm not that desperate, horse face_).

Sebastian felt Dave reach over and squeeze his arm. "Hey," Dave's voice was as smooth as honey. Fitting since he was a bear cub. "I get it. I was a dick too, remember? I'm not holding anything over you. _You_ are."

"Very philosophical," Sebastian said, but he knew that Dave was right. Of course, there was no way that he could know that. Ever. "Last I checked, the guy you were pushing around didn't try to kill himself and then try to joke about it."

"You were _not_ pushing me around," Dave rolled his eyes. "You didn't wanna go out with me and you were mean to my poor delicate heart by telling me I was a million pounds overweight and that I should stay in the closet. You were _so mean that it made me so sad,_ but like you could push _ME_ around. I'd punch back, princess. I don't know who told you that you were intimidating. Sure, you're taller than most guys, but it don't count if you look like you haven't gone through puberty. Did you ever look at yourself in the mirror? Your hair just screams my-dad-hit-me-as-a-kid-for-spilling-lemonade."

"I said a hundred pounds overweight," Sebastian snorted. "Don't put words in my mouth, Dave. _It ain't nice_."

"Are you sure I can put anything with all the shit that comes out of it?" Dave asked, and Sebastian was just thinking about what he would prefer to be _in_ his mouth. Obviously, because usually when people thought of his mouth, they didn't think about all the effortless bullshit he could spit out of it. Was Dave even sure that he liked him? "Alright, Smythe, I'm actually going to get into a physical altercation with this book if you don't actually help me with this homework."

Sebastian leaned over Dave's bed and sighed. "You suck at this." Jesus Christ, how could one person be _so bad_ at math?

"Thanks," Dave rolled his eyes. "Do you expect me to find it insulting that you think I'm dumb?"

"I didn't say you were dumb," Sebastian leafed through Dave's homework and cringed. Seriously, how did Dave pass elementary math? How could he be the best at anything when he had his ass whipped by a _triangle? _"I'll help you."

"But don't start screaming bloody murder like last time," Dave told him.

Yeah, he wanted Sebastian's help, but Dave had to lay down the law and tell Sebastian that he wasn't allowed to tell him that he must've lost all a million brain cells after getting tackled in football.

"You turned nicer," Dave finally thought to tell him. "Did anyone tell you that? Because I thought you were going to tell me off for not knowing this stuff and that if I just stopped day-dreaming about you so much, I'd be able to solve this."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You said it," he picked up one of the Dave's pencils. What happened to mechanical? _"Not me."_

He sucked at tutoring Dave because he had the worst patience. For some reason, that day, he didn't have to try so hard _not_ to commit a felony. He was able to talk Dave through his algebra problems without nearly choking him to death, which was unusual. Dave was just joking around about him being nicer, but Sebastian was sure that he was _nicer_. Of course, he didn't say it out loud in case someone thought he was auditioning for a Disney special about _the power of friendship._

An hour later, and fifteen questions solved pristinely, Dave looked impressed. Which Sebastian would usually prefer to the other thing that he did with his hands besides getting them calloused from old pencils. Pencil callouses were _not_ hot.

Oh, and yesterday, one of his teachers looked at him suspiciously after he opened the door for her and waited a whole five minutes for her Parkinsonian ass to get inside. He even said that _he hoped she felt better_. Sebastian was sure the nerd that was already in the room had a stroke when he heard that. Sebastian didn't cut into lines in the cafeteria anymore and it had been two weeks since he bitched at the lunch lady for trying to feed him her gloppy plastic mashed potatoes.

"You are nicer," Dave repeated, after they were done with his homework. "You didn't yell at me once."

"Yeah, well…" Sebastian just shrugged. "This is a _really_ convincing chair." When he said that, Dave just playfully pushed him by the shoulder because Sebastian totally bought that copy of the jock gay guy code when he joined the lacrosse team.

Dave feigned a look of pain. "Am _I_ not a convincing enough reason to be nice? I thought you cared about _my feelings."_

"You're not convincing for shit. You're stuck in the third fucking grade," Sebastian snorted and then in the most annoying, almost Hummel-esque pitch voice, he said, "_Mom, Sebastian is so mean to me but I'm glad that he still helps me with my math homework because OBVIOUSLY, _I lost all my brain cells playing football. By the way, lacrosse is so much better because they don't purposefully look for attackers that are over two hundred fucking pounds. You get way less shoulder dislocations!"

"I take that back about you being nicer,_"_ Dave rolled his eyes. "And hey, if I'm your proverbial bear cub, you should really consider pouring a little something sweet on me." Sebastian mock-gagged and Dave snorted. "Yeah right."

"I don't jump guys that are connected to a heart monitor," Sebastian just said, smirking. "Sorry."

"What about when I get discharged?" Sebastian didn't expect Dave to say that. Now, he was stuck in a weird situation where he couldn't say _no_ because that would mean that he was the biggest asshole on the planet, and he couldn't exactly say _yes_ just because he didn't want to hurt his feelings. Where did Dave get the confidence to ask after the first time? "I don't want to take away from your ritualistic hourly ass pampering, but what do you say about dinner?"

"Depends," Sebastian folded his hand on Dave's. "Can we split the bill _without_ you busting out a calculator?"

Their face was just inches away from each other and Sebastian almost felt nervous, because he obviously didn't usually get asked by a guy that almost _died_ just a few days ago. Should Dave be dating right now, or did he need like… therapy to cope with the whole 'I guess I came out as gay' thing? But it was just a date, you know? It wasn't like they were getting married. Besides, Sebastian felt a little flattered—and hotter than molten lava cake. Come on. You'd feel like hot shit too if you just got asked out by a guy that almost killed himself because of something _you_ said. That meant that Dave must really like him. So, Sebastian had to do something he never did, you know, just so that Dave knew that they were on the same page.

"I guess that you can come pick me up at my place," Sebastian said quickly, before he lost his nerve. Yeah. _Place_. Because it wasn't a _house_. He lived in a shoebox apartment. But he couldn't tell Dave that yet. No way.

"You don't live in Dalton?" Dave sounded a little surprised. "I thought you like originally lived in France?"

"Yeah, I just fly over from France every time I feel like wasting my time listening to my ninety-year-old biology teacher talk about how he has carpel tunnel from all the fucking papers he had to grade," Sebastian rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he wanted to retract his offer. If he was surprised that Sebastian didn't have a dorm, he'd love seeing his mom yell at him for not even attempting to take the stain out of her pan. The fucking thing said it was _stainless steel_.

"I mean… I thought you lived in a dorm," Dave just shrugged. "How long have your parents been living here in Ohio? Do they need help with adjusting to a new place while still trying to take care of the world's brattiest sixteen-year-old?"

Sebastian went red. "Um… yeah, about that…" he began, "They have been in Ohio for a while. Like _fifteen years_ a while."

"Seriously?" Dave went white, and then he burst into laughter. The kind of laughter where he sent spit flying everywhere and it was kind of gross. Sebastian was not _that_ funny. "So much for the French guy that lived his whole life in Ohio!"

"Hold up your horses there, big guy," Sebastian explained. Sure. He fibbed a little about _when_ he left France, but that didn't mean that he lied about being French. "My parents could still fucking map the whole country out like they just left it yesterday because they'd been living in France since before dinosaurs started roaming around. But I obviously don't remember anything about the place. Cause, you know, I didn't do much sight-seeing at six months."

Sebastian really _did_ drink expensive French wine it like mother's milk, because his mom used to drink a lot when she lived there, and she breast-fed him. So gross. The only time he'd ever be anywhere near a chick's tits. It made him wonder if that was aversion therapy. But hey, it was hard not to love the liquor when your mom conditioned your palate to three-hundred bottle wines. Yeah… his parents used to be classy, you know, _before_ his mom's uterus died after delivering six babies.

Speaking of moms… "Hey, Dave? I didn't see your mom come visit you?" Sebastian mentioned. "Is she not around?"

Dave looked surprised that Sebastian bought this up. "Yeah," he said. "She's still alive. She just doesn't care."

Sebastian nodded his head and felt his throat ache a little bit. "Sorry," he said, and he weirdly enough meant it. Because he couldn't imagine how it was like to have a mom that didn't drag your weary ass from bed at six in the morning, gave you black coffee, chided you for sleeping at two am and at the same time, asked you if you wanted pancakes for breakfast.

"It's okay," Dave nodded his head, and then cleared his throat. "Shouldn't you be heading home?"

Sebastian looked at the clock. If he left now, he'd have maximal jacking off time at home after he finished his million reports. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. When he got up from where he was sitting, he looked back at Dave, feeling his throat swell a little bit. Was he nervous? Seriously pathetic, because he was asking this guy a question, not giving a fucking presentation. "Hey, big guy? When you come to my house, can you _not_ tell my parents you want to suck face with me?"

Wait, were they actually going to suck face? Sebastian sort of just assumed.

"Seriously? What's up with that?" Dave looked offended. "Are you like ashamed of bringing home the prize hog? You want to make sure your parents know you're not going to get tapeworm from making out with me?"

"Ha ha, you're so funny," Sebastian rolled his eyes, and then felt a little jittery from where he stood. Sebastian wished he knew how to tell Dave that he looked fine, but he didn't know how to say that after the whole hundred pounds and waxing eyebrows comment, you know? "No. Look…I've never bought a guy home exactly."

_You'd be the first_ was the obvious translation. "Really?" Dave's voice was soft. "So… why me?"

"I guess I want to try something new that's all," Sebastian didn't want to give Dave this vibe that he liked him nearly as much. "I feel like I got to change. I owe you that much, you know? And I owe it to me too. I know it's a big ask. It's not like we're going out. I just thought that maybe this'll be a little different, you got me?" Sebastian never had been upfront with a lot of people before about stuff like this. He hoped that it wasn't going to blow up on his face because he didn't feel like dumping a guy that had already memorised his coffee order. "But you don't have to come."

"Oh. Sure, man. I just didn't… I didn't expect this," Dave's face softened. "Drive safe, okay?" Sebastian nodded and left.

On the day that Dave was going to be discharged, Sebastian was going to ask his mom to make honey cake.


	2. Making Plans with Kurt

_to **Another Fan,** i can definitely do Huntbastian. because i don't have a pairing planned, i don't mind considering other pairings... originally, i have not considered adding Hunter to this, especially since it's pretty much based around Season 3 but i'll see what i can do since it's pretty AU from "On My Way". to __**HarryPotterLover333**, i actually like Sebofsky, but i definitely am not planning for them to actually be together long-term. i feel like i read a lot of nice/soft Sebastian in fanfiction, but i'm not a big fan of it. my normal Sebastian is usually a little bit rougher around the edges than the show's Sebastian so... we'll see._

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Two: Making Plans with Kurt

* * *

After Sebastian left Dave, he didn't feel so hot. Not about, you know, going out with the guy—he just had not been feeling hot lately. He'd been sort of nauseous all the time. He peed on his mom's pregnancy test just to be sure he wasn't, you know, harbouring secret chick bits and a cum cave. He didn't think he had the right tubes for that, but you never knew, right? He could be like one of those guys on TV that _looked_ like a guy but had the plumbing for both.

Whatever. As long as he wasn't having this conversation with his mom, he was willing to forget about what he did.

He was a little worried about it. Not the nausea. The whole 'being nice' thing wasn't exactly normal for him. Sebastian concluded he must be suffering from some serious traumatic brain injury that one time he fell on his head from the bar when he tried to twerk on a bar stool. Yeah, he was so drunk he thought that people wanted his flat ass to twerk. But you know, a serious brain injury might explain why he was standing outside of the hospital _and then decided to dial Gay Face's number_. Because you know, he did that all the time when he was too lazy to rip out his eyebrows with his own bear hands.

No, he did not have a stroke when in the last half hour, but that would explain the date with Dave and him calling—_yuck_.

Why was he calling Kurt? Sebastian wasn't sure. But he had a sneaking suspicion it was to… _apologise_. Fuck this!

He totally stole Kurt's number, just for prank calls, so Kurt pretty much knew this was Sebastian's number. Sebastian was kind of impressed that Kurt still answered them. Normally, he'd scoff that the princess thought that things were going to change, but right now, Gay Face was having the last laugh… and Sebastian was letting him! Maybe he was calling because he subconsciously, he had a longing to be a decent person. A boring, decent person that didn't kill endangered bear cubs. What the hell was up with that? What next? Sebastian was going to shop for panties for his new glory pussy? No wonder he fucking took a pregnancy test. It was amazing that the testosterone police didn't call and ask for their balls back.

"What do you want, Sebastian?" Kurt sounded pissed. But he still picked up the phone. Talk about mixed signals.

Sebastian took a deep breath, feeling his chest tighten a little. He was allergic to how _nice_ he was becoming. There was no other explanation. That, or maybe binge-drinking booze most days of the week wasn't good for you. "Hey, Gay Face."

What did people say? _Hey, I'd ask you how you are, but I actually don't care? What kind of phone do you have? Is it pink? And—_

"Sebastian, I actually have things to do _besides_ entertain you," Kurt was annoyed. "So, to what do I owe this displeasure?"

"You know… at the Lima Bean, after Dave just…" Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat. This wasn't going so well. He was sure that unless he cut to the chase, Kurt might believe that Sebastian was calling him because he was considering killing himself. As if he'd be calling the princess as a last call before he offed himself, _please_. "Look, I said that I'd try to be better, right? And that means that I might have to actually ap… apo… _apolo_—"

He could imagine how amused Kurt was. "You mean _apologise?_" he sighed. "Seriously, are you allergic to the word?"

"Maybe," Sebastian rubbed his neck. He did feel a little itchy. "Look, this ain't easy for me, princess."

"I know. Somehow, to you, being a decent human being is a terrible chore," Sebastian was pretty sure that Kurt didn't sound too spiteful. That was a good enough for him, but he, Sebastian, was sure that he couldn't hang up in the middle of the call. It wasn't nice. "I guess I might be swayed into forgiving you. But it _will_ take time, Sebastian. Your slate is definitely not clean, and you will have to work for it." Sebastian was _not_ working for anything. Bitch.

"Good enough, Gay Face," he shrugged. What? "Thanks," he was surprised he said that. _Thanks?_ To the princess?

"You're… you're welcome?" Kurt sounded like it was the first time he heard the word. Get real. People wanted him to be decent fucking human being, and now that he was actually trying, they were acting like he was an alien.

Sebastian didn't know why he said the next thing that he said. It was obviously a cry for him. "Do you want to meet up?"

"_You?_ And _me?"_ Kurt sounded incredulous. "Um… what do you even like to _do_ besides terrorising school children?"

Sebastian tried to think about it. He didn't even do anything anymore. He had sex with a lot of guys. He drank sometimes—people thought he drank way more than he did, but you know, his mom was going to kill him if she thought he had a problem. He practically popped Azithromycin like it was candy, because of all the STD's that he'd been having.

"How about lunch? Tomorrow?" Sebastian asked, smoothing over his shirt. "You _do_ eat right, princess? Like actual food and not just survive off puffs of fairy dust and rainbows? So, how about we meet up to do that?"

"_You…_ want to have _lunch_ with _me?" _why the hell was Gay Face repeating everything Sebastian said?

"No, I'm talking to a different princess," Sebastian snorted. "Is this the guy that hosts the annual gay parade? I want to talk to him once he's done shoving glittery butt plugs up his ass. Yeah! I'm gonna eat lunch tomorrow—surprise! You know, consume one of the three meals that you need to purely exist? So, I guess we're just going to be doing it together. It's not a fucking marriage contract, princess. Get over it. So, are you coming or are you just going to be repeating everything I say?"

"Fine," Kurt said, but he sounded like it was a chore. "I'm very curious to see where it goes." That was what Sebastian said before he lost his virginity when he was fourteen and thought he accidentally ripped his own asshole. Good times.

"Have you never had a lunch date before? You know how those goes. When you eat, you try not to choke. And you're at serious fucking risk because you still have a gag reflex," Sebastian smirked. "And wear something, you know, _not gay_."

He could see Kurt looking fed up. "What do _you_ care what I'm wearing since you probably slept with most of Ohio?"

That stung. That surprised Sebastian because he had expertly numbed himself of any real emotion over the last few years. He even faked it with his own fucking parents. But that _hurt_, and Sebastian was surprised that it did. He heard worse than that, so why the fuck was he shaking like he was in mid-orgasm? "Whatever. Look, about where we're meeting up…?"

He couldn't fucking believe that he picked the place. He couldn't believe that he was taking Kurt Hummel to one of his favourite places in Ohio. Sebastian usually _never_ picked the place, because all the places that he knew—other than the Lima Bean—was next to his apartment. He was really going out on a limb here by bringing Gay Face to a place that had untainted, nice memories. What was going on? Did normal people change personality just like that without any fucking epiphany, revelation or trauma? When did he start _trusting_ people again? Whatever this was, this better stop soon, because he was talking faster than he was thinking. And when he thought about what he was doing, he wanted to strangle himself.

Sebastian usually worked out in the weekends, and then after his workout, he stopped by this place. Shocker. He went to some place other than the Lima Bean! He rolled his eyes. They made sandwiches that were big enough to kill a polar bear.

"It's in _where?"_ Kurt reiterated after Sebastian's whole mental spiel about how important this place was to him. "Are you going to drag me out in a corner and bludgeon me to death? Where did you even find this place—when you were busy flirting with your drug dealer?" Okay, who told this bitch that he was considerate?

"Ha ha _HA_," Sebastian said dryly. "You know what? Screw you. At least I have the balls to admit that I'm a dick instead of hiding behind the pretty princess thing you have going on. And for _your_ information, I'd rather go there and be bludgeoned to death than spend a fucking day re-enacting High School Musical with you."

Instead of feeling a little proud of his comeback, he felt enormously guilty. Guilty for _what?_ Not congratulating Kurt Hummel on telling him that he spent his night swapping strains of Hepatitis B with his boyfriend?

"I thought you were trying to be nice," Kurt said, sounding a little smug. "Already giving up, Sebastian?"

"You tell me how the hell am _I_ supposed to react to what you just said to me? How would you react to it?" Sebastian challenged. "I said I was going to _try_ to be nice. I never said that I was going to let you walk all over me. It ain't a fucking one-way street, princess. I'm not going to let you sit there be a dick to me. If we're going to try this out, you got to treat me right. Believe it or not, I actually have _feelings_…and hey, if you could forgive the bear cub, you could forgive me, right?"

"I guess," Kurt said. Wow. He didn't think that would actually work. Sebastian felt… conflicted. "Sorry. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Sebastian replied. Maybe there was something to this. "Bring your own needles. I don't share."

After his exciting phone call to his new best friend (_gag_), Sebastian drove home because he was afraid if he had his phone in his hand for any longer he might actually call the last guy that he slept with and tell him that he enjoyed their time together. Even though that asshole came directly into his eyes. Talk about a cum facial gone wrong. Sebastian was pretty sure that this was the beginning of a Greek tragedy. He'd end up blind from conjunctivitis as a lesson from the universe about how you shouldn't throw rock-salt slushies at your crush—or your crush's pet penguin.

When he got home, he climbed through all the flights of stairs because the elevator was broken again. Sydney joined him.

"Hey, Seb," Sydney was already panting. "Did you see your new boyfriend? The guy that nearly died?"

Sebastian sighed. "He's not my boyfriend. And he got a name," he said as Sydney used his Ventolin. "And how are you on the football team with asthma that's so fucking bad you can't climb a couple of stairs without needing an inhaler?"

"I'm the best they got on that team. But you know, I could say the same thing about this gay guy I know that hates the anything remotely feminine but also happens to use enough product in his hair to make an environmentalist group faint. This loser I know would wax pussy just to score a couple of wheels. But wow, let's talk about this other guy that obviously has taken my little Seb's breath away," Sydney replied. Sebastian was sure the best football player shouldn't receive three knee dislocations in a fucking year. And yeah, Syd knew a lot about feeling breathless.

"So… _this guy got a name_," Sydney said, laughing. "Usually they don't have a name. When's the wedding, Seb?"

"Did you see the fucking deathtrap that dad lends me? I think I nearly died in there once," Sebastian groaned. Yeah, he'd probably actually wax Gay Face's pussy if it would help him score a new car. So what? "And I'm not marrying _Dave_ just because I bothered to know his name. _Maybe_ I wanna try something beyond just hooking up."

"You can do worse than dad's pick-up," Sydney said seriously. "You could be riding that unshaven pussy."

Sebastian actually physically gagged. "Thanks," he groaned. "I worked hard to lose that gag reflex."

"No problem, I'm helping you out. You know, in your quest to _stop_ having meaningless sex with guys," Sydney pushed Sebastian to the side as they got to their top floor of their apartment. Syd only used his Ventolin inhaler four times before he got there. Good for him. His asthma was cured. "Now, 'cause you know, I'm helping you out, would you help me out? And do my homework? I promise I'll purposely answer a few of them wrong… _and_ I'll pay you ten bucks."

"Sure," Sebastian replied. Hey, it was closer to a car that didn't smell like McDonalds just burned down. "Moron."

"You're the best, you know that?" Sydney looked like he did the day that he received the news that both of his balls had finally descended into their sac. His brother was a serious loser, if the best news of the fucking year was knowing that he could reproduce. Straight people made Sebastian sick sometimes. _What do you want babies for anyway? You're fucking sixteen. _

"Hey," he watched Sydney fiddle with the keys. "I'm-I'm… bringing Dave over after he gets discharged. Just saying."

Sydney was wheezing. So much for curing the asthma. "Seriously?" he looked surprised. "Like _to meet our parents?"_

"No, I wanted to bring him up to our fucking apartment so he could get mugged," Sebastian snorted. Yeah, he did get mugged around this place, which was probably why Gay Face thought he was luring him in on a trap. "And I'm also bringing Kurt Hummel—you know, he's the guy that looks like he misplaced his dick—to… well… to Hal's Subs."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Sydney looked like he might faint. "You're bringing a guy you hate… to-to _our place?" _

"We don't actually own it," Sebastian tried to tell him. "Syd, I know you probably dropped an IQ point for every fucking second your giant head was stuck in mom. You know, because your impatient ass just _had_ to go before—"

_"We were the first fucking customers there, Seb!"_ Sydney reminded him, looking at Sebastian like he was crazy. "You know that this is _our-our secret_. You can't bring an outsider into this. _He's not one of us_. You-you can't! You can't!" He was talking about it like Lima was huge. Did you know how big Lima was to the rest of the fucking world? It was a Lima bean. Got it?

_Hey, the Lima Bean!_ Coffee beans _and_ actual lima beans. That was a cool play-on words. How come he never noticed that?

"Shut up, Syd," Sebastian rolled his eyes, only for Sydney to wallow in despair. "_Nobody cares_ about your stupid sub shop."

"I hope this guy at least gives you head," Sydney replied. Sebastian decided he'd rather ride that unshaven pussy. "Jesus."

Sebastian shook his head. "I'd rather fuck a goat." It would look so much sexier too. Fun. "I'm just… trying to be _nice_."

"You're doing that to be _nice?"_ Sydney looked weirded out. "What for? Since when did you give a shit?" He finally got the door open. Who gave Syd a key anyway? That guy didn't know how to use it. No wonder he never saw anyone's tits. He probably didn't know how the fuck to unclasp a bra without the manual. Seriously.

Sebastian kind of gagged at the idea of being related to Sydney sometimes, because he was sure that his brain was still somewhere in their mom's uterus. They were couple of sixteen-year-old high school students that literally had about nothing in common other than they were fucking identical twins. Sebastian was in the lacrosse team and show choir. Sydney played football in Thurston. But Sydney was so out of the loop that he barely remembered that football players were supposed to be popular. It was probably because he, like Dave, received so many tackles that it was kind of amazing that he remembered his own name most days. Sydney also had this thing about drinking a gallon of orange juice every morning because he didn't want to get sick. Every morning that Sebastian got up from his sleep and watched Syd drinking enough orange juice to die from Vitamin C intoxication, he felt like giving up.

His mom, Nathalie, was the cut-out-of-a-magazine supermodel that quit the job so she could bake muffin tins for half-price in a school bake sale. She had him right after she and his dad got crushed by a fucking semi. He nearly died. She didn't even know she was pregnant, even though, you know, the general expanding waist size and morning puke kind of helped. She didn't know until some guy told her when she went for a checkup. She called him and Syd _her_ _miracle babies_ because he survived the crash. Gag. No wonder he never bought anyone here. The last thing he wanted was his mom to tell that story.

In their apartment, his parents were in the living room. His mom was bitching at every celebrity and how they were the reason that teenage girls felt like cutting their butts open and stuffing them with more fluff than the Pillsbury Doughboy.

"_MOM! DAD!_ He's bringing that guy that he hates to _our spot,"_ Sydney flailed his arms dramatically. Really. He should be in fucking drama class because he'd be so much better at it than getting tackled in football. "Mom, he's fucking crazy. He-he's going to bring this guy over here because he wants to have an actual relationship with him. I think _he's sick_."

His mom was also playing Sudoku. "That's nice, love." Sydney could come bargaining in saying someone got stabbed and his mom probably wouldn't call the police because she knew his wild imagination probably made it up.

"I think you're sick, Syd," replied Sebastian with a roll of his eyes. "Look, what if I am trying to be _nicer?"_

His dad was trying to suppress a laugh, like that was the funniest thing that Sebastian said. "Sure. If that's what you want."

_"Hey!"_ Sebastian looked at Jean, who was still trying not to laugh. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side."

Nathalie sighed deeply. He was sure his mom gave up on him like last week. "Really? _You're_ trying to be nicer? I thought you were dedicated to getting me into the principal's office at least once a week. And getting yourself on the liver transplant list before the age of twenty." His mom tried to sign him up to Alcoholic Anonymous… gross.

Sebastian rubbed his arm. "I changed," well, nobody changed that fast, but whatever. "I'm trying to at least... I guess?"

"Really? _You_ changed? So, no more sneaking tapes of you confessing to hurting another kid with a rock-salt slushie because you got caught in a bad love triangle? No more trying to blackmail kids by Photoshop? No more trying to steal little kids' lunch money?" she asked. His mom actually found the tape in his drawers. Bad place to hide your tapes. She made him call Blaine's parents to apologise. Super embarrassing. "I'll believe it when I see it."

_"Our place,"_ Sydney repeated, looking traumatised. "They're going to get _glitter_ all over it!"

Sebastian glared at his twin. If he strangled Sydney now, it would be a favour to fucking humanity.


	3. Kurt Meets Darla

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Three: Kurt Meets Darla

* * *

One hour of flat ironing his hair. Twenty-five minutes of trying to get rid of the tufts of blonde with L'Oréal permanent hair dye. Because obviously, he was worth not looking like the lemonade-haired freak in the Nude Erections. Yuck.

Sydney had managed to really mature in the last twenty-four hours. He wasn't even phased anymore that Sebastian was taking Gayest Face to Hal's Subs anymore. Syd did his own homework by himself, and he was sort of pissed off about the fact that Sebastian snuck back into their room at four am. His whole family was getting kind of sick of the fact that Sebastian had a little problem with booze. They knew he didn't pay for his own booze, and that he basically leeched it off other guys. But once your parents know that most of these guys were old enough to be your fucking father, they start to get worried. Sebastian tried to assure them that he didn't sleep with guys suffering from arthritis, but they weren't convinced.

_You're not yourself,_ his dad told him last night when they were washing dishes. _Did someone do something to you?_

They thought he was being nice because some guy took advantage of him after he drank a little too much, which you know, it could've happened. Sebastian had been black-out drunk so many times at Scandals. But he didn't think that that was why he decided to become best friends with the guy that put the _suck_ in cock sucker. Without the actual blow-jobs.

Sydney walked into the room when Sebastian was just staring at his face. He _looked_ like he waxed his eyebrows. Gross.

"Are you done staring at yourself in the mirror?" Sydney asked dryly, leaning against the wall.

Sebastian nodded his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. He always thought he looked good but today, it was like he woke up and realised that he was Frankenstein's fucking monster. What the hell? Now, he didn't how he looked like in any of his clothes. His body was _not_ fucking proportionate. His legs looked weird even in baggy black pants and his white shirt made his skin look whiter than a fucking marshmallow. He had a zit on his back that he knew nobody could see but it was kind of making him want to kill himself. Great. He looked like a _joke_. And a plastic surgeon couldn't fix him.

"Yeah," Sebastian replied softly, looking away from the mirror. "Sure." He realised that he was already late.

"Seb?" Sydney stared at him like he was about to detonate. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look… kind of… _sad?"_

"I'm okay," Sebastian said, his voice just as soft. He didn't understand what was happening to him. What was _this?_ The second phase of puberty where he develops morals and his self-esteem tanks for no fucking reason? "I'm fine."

Was he depressed? Sebastian didn't feel fucking anymore sadder or happier than usual… whatever.

"You sure?" Sydney asked and then started laughing. "You ain't checking yourself out like usual, princess. Do you need a bigger mirror to take in all the beauty?" he mocked, but all Sebastian could think about was there wasn't a big enough mirror for his fucking horse face. How come Sydney had the same face and didn't look like a total douche?

Barf. Did he actually do that? Sebastian looked at his face, wondering if all those cum facials deformed it.

"Sebastian," Sydney grabbed his shoulder and looked at him straight up. _"What happened to you?"_

"What…what do you mean?" Sebastian asked unconvincingly. He wasn't even nervous when he lost his virginity! What gave? Seriously, what was he scared of? That Sydney would beat him with his inhaler?

Sydney raised an eyebrow as if to say that he wasn't that fucking dumb. "Are you… are you thinking of doing what that Dave guy did? Is that why you're so damn close to him? Is that why you wanna bring him home tonight since he got discharged?" he asked, his voice a little lower than usual. "_Because you're freaking me out._ Not just me. You're freaking _mom and dad out too!_ Dad thinks that some creep in that bar fucking put his hands on you. Mom thinks that you might've seriously screwed up and you didn't want to own up. But whatever it is, you're not your-fucking-self."

"I'm trying to be fucking nice," Sebastian spat out at him. "When am I going to get that through your thick head?"

"Fine. You're trying to be nice. Good for you, but did something happen to make you want to?" Sydney looked just as serious as their dad's heart attack. The one that put him in the ICU for a couple of months. _"Did somebody hurt you?"_

Sebastian just swallowed the lump in his throat, and he shook his head. "No," he said softly.

And that was the fucking truth! What kind of person just started acting different for no damn reason? It didn't make sense.

"I don't believe you," Sydney said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Something had to have happened. And you know what? I always hated it when you fucking come home at three am, plastered but I can't fucking stand it anymore. If you dare to walk out of this place after eleven, I'm gonna to fucking drag you back because I don't trust you know what you're doing. I think people are taking advantage of you, but you're so fucking conceited that you think that you're using them."

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? Sydney the psychiatrist? Fuck him. Sebastian was seething.

"Whatever," Sebastian said, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. "I hope you get hit by a truck trying to do that. Hey, you survived once, didn't you?" he knew this didn't make any sense because… well, they were twins.

Sydney scoffed. "That was bad," he threw Sebastian's wallet towards him. "I'm happy you're finally getting some friends. Because I'm hoping that they fucking figure out what must be going on inside your head. Because it can't be good."

"You think you know me?" Sebastian spat out icily, his shoulders stiffening. "Whatever, Syd."

"I _know_ that you changed," Sydney stared him down. "You changed so damn much. You were always fucking mean, but you were never self-destructive. That's new. See, mom, dad and I—we _know_ that you got a problem. We just never talked about it. It's easier just to deal with you trying to lash out on anyone that's holding a set of pompoms. But we fucked up. Because there is something seriously wrong with the way that you think. I can't fucking believe I waited until you were plastered pretty much every day to do something about it… I'm so damn sorry, Seb, but I'm gonna help you."

Sydney was looking at him like Sebastian actually had a real problem. What was the problem anyway? Whatever. Sebastian had half a mind to stop going to Scandals just to stop his mom from trying to pack him heart-shaped PB&Js.

_"I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP!"_ Sebastian shrieked out. "I'm _FINE,_ Syd. I know that's hard for you to fucking grasp, but I don't need your help. I never needed your fucking help. I don't know what you think is going on, but you're so fucking wrong that it's almost hilarious." Sydney was looking at him like he was pitying Sebastian for not knowing.

He felt guilty again. Guilty for what? Letting Syd tell him that he knew what he was feeling? Screw him.

Before he left, he checked his closet one more time. How come no matter how much fucking clothes you bought you literally had nothing to wear? And why the hell did he think that he could rock leather pants? Every time he looked at them, he could hear a vegan chain themselves to a tree. Sebastian rolled his eyes and tried to cover himself up with a black zip-up. He surveyed himself in the mirror, and then felt a little better now that he had a little something to cover up his giant shoulders. Gross. And it wasn't that they were huge because they were muscular. He looked like a human clothing rack. Sebastian didn't know how the hell he was going to go to a bar now that he felt like he looked like shit. He bet with his current level of self-esteem; he'd let the first cross-dressing sixty-year-old with sweaty armpits take him back home.

Before he could go out, he got a WhatsApp message. He got added into a new group, and Trent was texting.

_Hey Sebastian? Yeah, I wanted to let you know that Nick, Jeff and I are going out and we thought that maybe you'd want to come with? We're going to see a movie this Friday. We can sort of meet up before and decide what movie we're going to? Maybe something a little funny. I know the Karofsky thing has been sort of hard for you to deal with. And we don't think you should be alone. _

Sebastian probably got diabetes from reading that message. It was sweeter than a double fudge cake.

Fortunately, he was still sensible enough that his first initial feeling was disgust. What was wrong with these people?

_Sure_, Sebastian replied. Short and sweet but then he added on: _But I'm sitting in the middle and I don't want Duval to sit next to me because he smells like Bath and Body Works just exploded and he laughs like a fucking goat. Gross. And I can't be seen sitting next to Sterling, who looks like he belongs in a Disney Channel boy band. Or you either, Dixon. I might see someone I actually like. Got it? _

Otherwise, the rest of his message was nice. Hell, his whole message was nice. It was constructive criticism, okay?

When he got to Hal's Subs, Kurt Hummel was already sitting there looking like he didn't know what to do with himself.

He looked like a real princess dressed in all that white. What was he trying to do? Match his fucking pet unicorn? Talk about vanilla. Sebastian was already pissed off, and he half wanted to insult Gay Face, and keep their competitiveness. But he just felt pitiful. And you know the weird thing was? Sebastian felt like he wanted to cry. So not only did he need fucking panties for his new pussy, but he also probably needed to get a fucking diaper. Even Gay Face wasn't a crybaby.

What the hell was happening to him? His parents probably thought he was getting ready to off himself. They raided his room and took away his razor, and his mom wouldn't even give him a fucking pill for his headache.

Sebastian was sure that if they could, his parents would fucking steal his books so he couldn't hurt himself with a papercut.

They even took his safety pins and told him to get rid of his tattoo. How the hell was he supposed to get rid of something inked permanently into his skin? Sheer fucking will? His mom confiscated his earring studs. The only thing they hadn't confiscated was his hair dye. But it wasn't long before they came up with the idea that maybe he was going to off himself by consuming mounds of pasty hair dye. They wouldn't even let Sydney walk around with his inhaler.

Could you die from taking too much fucking Ventolin? Sebastian was pretty sure it wasn't possible.

"Princess," Sebastian greeted with a nod of his head before sitting. This was not his usual spot, but he decided not to be too picky about it. The place smelled like fried carbohydrates and cheese. It was an amazing smell. Kurt was staring at him like he was waiting for Sebastian to choke him and then drag his body away to a dumpster. This was great.

Kurt looked surprised, as if he just realised that Sebastian was upset. "Sebastian," he greeted. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," Sebastian said through gritted teeth, because if another person asked him if he was upset, he might explode. He just shrugged, and then looked down at his menu. "Just thought you'd bring along your high heels. I have got this pain in my neck and I don't want to hurt myself by looking down at you." Not the best, but it wasn't as weak as it could've been.

Kurt glared at him. "What happened to trying to be nice, Sebastian? Did you already quit? It's been a day."

Sebastian just shrugged, and then looked at the menu. "Whatever," he said stiffly, only for Kurt to roll his eyes. "Why did you come anyway if you'd just anticipate that I'm just going to fucking quit?" he asked, and Kurt looked surprised.

What? Surprised that Sebastian came to that conclusion? "I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt," Kurt replied.

Sebastian doubted that that was the actual reason, but he took it anyway. Kurt was looking through the menu. The faces that he made were hilarious and all Sebastian could do was try to bite his tongue back so he wouldn't laugh.

"I was right," Kurt said after some time, rubbing his neck. So, he had the neck pain now too? "You are trying to kill me. With a heart attack."

Sebastian couldn't even reply to that. Yeah, he was sure that all Kurt Hummel ate were salads. Yeah, he wasn't buying it.

"This place doesn't even discriminate among vegans," Kurt told him. "Sebastian… nobody deep-fries a tomato sandwich."

"I'm not asking you to eat a deep-fried tomato sandwich," Sebastian rolled his eyes and just shrugged. "Get over it."

What the hell was wrong with that guy? He skipped past like three salads that hadn't been stuck in a fryer or slathered in mayonnaise and was focusing on some sandwich that just happened to be deep-fried and covered in cheese. Nobody asked him to eat it. This guy ate nachos, right? You deep-fried those and cover them in cheese? At least this had tomatoes in it. Sebastian didn't even really have to look at the menu that he'd probably memorised down to the stupid fucking Comic Sans font they used that was probably also giving Gay Face an aneurysm. He expected people to be okay with him wearing a corset but cooking tomatoes in oil was enough to put him into foetal position on the floor. Seriously?

One of the waitresses there—Sebastian didn't have to look up to know which one. It was Darling Darla—marched over there. He knew it was her because she was wearing that lily perfume that made him want to gag. "Oh baby, I—"

Kurt opened his mouth to ask this chick why the hell she was so enthusiastic to see him, but then her face dropped.

"I'm sorry," Darla said, pulling out her notebook. She was so nervous that Sebastian wondered if this was why she dropped out of high school. Couldn't take the pressure of serving _le pathetic unicorn_.

Kurt looked confused. "What for?" Sebastian was so bored. "And did you just call me _baby?" _

"Um…well, you have such cute cheeks!" she laughed nervously. "What can I get you boys?" shouldn't she go back to the 1950s? _What can I get you boys?_ This chick was barely seventeen but obviously got tips from her grandma on how to dress.

"Um…" Kurt acted like his menu like it was written in Klingon. "Well, I guess that I'm going to get… uh, lentil soup."

"Sure, yeah, lentil… lentil soup. Yes, that's your _order_," Darla said, nodding her head and flushed. She didn't even know where she kept her pen on her uniform. He bet that Syd mentioned to his precious Darla that Sebastian was acting weird. Great. Now, she thought he was suicidal too. "Yes. Of course, you'd want me to take your order. I'm a waitress. You don't know me because you've never seen me before. Alright. I understand… alright."

Kurt looked at Sebastian, completely weirded out. "Am I… missing something here?" Sebastian was about to reply: _your balls_, but he guessed that that probably wouldn't help. "Do you two know each other? Because it looks like you do."

"Yes, we know each other," Darla replied, but didn't offer anymore information. She was embarrassed. What the hell was this? Her high-school fucking prom? Sebastian rolled his eyes. "My name is Darla Bell. I'm a waitress here. I remember pretty much everyone that walks through these walls and orders three slices of pie as a hangover cure."

"Oh," Kurt then cleared his throat. "It's just… you looked like you were expecting Sebastian to _be_ with someone."

"Oh no," Darla lied, because it was embarrassing that she was wetter than a dog out of a bath. Sydney was disgusting. "Who would I be expecting at this time? Our lentil soup is… it's great. It has _lentils_ in it. Have you ever had those before?"

Sebastian couldn't fucking believe how bad this was going. Her hopeful face completely disappeared because she saw that the guy sitting across from him wasn't his idiot brother that was in love with this stupid place—_and_ her. She'd been going out with him for like forever now. Sebastian was kind of disgusted. Every time that he found them fucking each other like jackrabbits, he wished that he could strangle him because Sydney sounded like a goat when he orgasmed. Sydney, football player, totally into this chick that dropped out of high school and became a waitress. Together, they were going to elude all forms of education forever. They would raise their kids as anti-vaxxers and eat kale smoothies for breakfast.

The thought of it was enough to give him another headache. And also made him want to puke again. He hoped that he was going to keep it down because he was pretty sure that his mom knew about it. She probably thought that he was bulimic. His dad thought that he just drank too much when he went out. Sydney thought he was _self-destructive._

"Well, since Sebastian has no manners and isn't going to introduce me, I'm Kurt," he said. "I'm Sebastian's… um…"

Darla wrote down _lentil soup_. Sebastian hoped it came with deep-fried lentils. _"Friend?"_ she offered.

"No fucking way. This is my…my…" Sebastian didn't what the hell Gay Face was. An arch nemesis? The guy that was sleeping with the love of his life? A lost unicorn that lost its way to Barbie to help her in her time of need? "This is a guy I'm trying not to completely hate. But he's making it hard for me by dressing like he's going to his fucking wedding."

Darla looked over at Kurt's clothes. "Why?" she didn't get it. "Because he's wearing white?"

"Yeah," Sebastian replied, not even a little surprised by Darla saying that. Sydney, the guy that had this thing about drinking a gallon of juice every morning, used to drop by here every morning. Every time he thought of their romance, he was pretty sure a little piece of him died on the inside. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Darla… I'm just gonna get the usual."

"Sure," Darla said, nodding her head slightly and then walking away from them. "Okay. Um… that's it?"

He was going to maybe stab her if she thought that his _last meal_ was going to be at Hal's Subs. Sebastian just shrugged.

Sebastian couldn't believe it. He was pretty sure Sydney said something to her about how something probably happened to him. He was going to fucking lose it with his family. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down—but then he felt this irrational, confusing pang of guilt in his stomach walloping over him suddenly. Like he felt almost guilty for worrying his family. What for? They were making things up in their head. Sebastian was _fine_, but maybe he'd turn crazy if they kept thinking it for long enough. As he watched Darla walk away in red-inch heels that could probably be spotted out in a satellite in Mars, Kurt was eying him like he was trying to figure him out. Ha, nice try, princess.

"You usually come here with someone?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was under the impression you were single."

Sebastian snorted. "It's none of your business who I come here with," as if he wanted to introduce Sydney to anyone. It was hard enough having to ignore the fact that people knew that they were in the same family, on the account of, you know, being identical twins, but it was even worse thinking of Gay Face meeting his mentally incompetent brother. "But if you _must_ know, I usually come here with my brother… who Darla just happens to do vigorous tonsil tennis with."

He didn't even feel good seeing Kurt's surprise because he realised he'd have to talk about _that_ loser.

"_You_ have a brother?" Kurt said, as if it was hilarious that Sebastian had to share his bed with his loser brother. "I don't know if you were able to share all _that genetic glory_ with someone else." He looked cocky. Bitch. "Does he go to Dalton?"

"Just because most people in your fucking pretentious Glee club don't have _anywone to twalk_ _to at home_ doesn't mean _I_ don't, princess," Sebastian replied curtly. "Sydney doesn't go to Dalton. Hell, he's barely fucking passing Thurston."

How could you fail a fucking language you know how to speak? Sebastian was sure his mom lost three dress sizes the day she found out he was failing French. He was sure that was the real reason his dad went to therapy with Sydney—his consistent under-achievement was a nightmare. Sebastian tried telling him to milk the 2009 concussion if he knew what was good for him. But on one relatively cold summer day, Sebastian remembered seeing his brother come back from therapy. His face was drawn-out and pale, and his eyes were puffy, and red. It scared Sebastian to death.

Kurt just sighed deeply. "And here I thought that _you_ were mean to me." Darla bought his soup out already. Sebastian felt ecstatic when he saw the oily top to the soup. It looked like a fucking cream sauce for a pasta. "Your poor brother. I can't imagine what sharing a bed with you must be like—and don't turn that into a bad sex line. It's a cheap shot even for you, Smythe. But I am mildly curious now… how old is he? Does he know that you nearly blinded my boyfriend?"

Sebastian scoffed. "Like I'm actually in my room most of the time," Kurt was no fun. "He's five minutes older than me."

Kurt looked impressed. "Oh, he's your _twin_," the way he said it made Sebastian disgusted at the fact that he sucked cock. "Are you the carbon copy type of twin or do you actually have your own separate unique look?" fine. He got that.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Carbon copy," he said. "But I'm the original."

"The original that came five minutes _after_ the fake?" Kurt teased and Sebastian wished he could punch him in the face, but some part of him—that nice part of him—was telling him not to disfigure a guy he was trying to be friends with. That wasn't what real friends did to each other anyway. Darla came around by now. He had his ginger spiced apple pie. Sweet. Spicy. Sexy. "Are you eating pie for lunch? How old are you? Are you like three?"

Sebastian snorted. "Sorry I didn't kill my own cow for lunch," he rolled his eyes.

"Funny you mention cows. I thought you'd be more of a steak and potatoes kind of guy," Kurt just shrugged. "If you were a little nicer, Sebastian, then you wouldn't have to eat all that sweetness to offset how bitter you really are inside."

Sebastian huffed. "I'm not any kind of guy, princess," he was who he was, you know? He was the kind of guy that would blow a thirty-year-old guy but didn't like it if his date did the dine-and-dash (come on, if he could barely pay up for a few dollars, what made him think that he could afford something as high maintenance as Sebastian Smythe?). If you weren't willing to pay for the fake, you don't deserve the original. "And I _am_ the original. Someone stole my idea and locked me in a closet. I had trouble coming out," Kurt looked mildly impressed by that.

"Let me guess," Kurt looked bored with the conversation and appalled at his soup. "I don't know anything about you. You are so mysterious. _You're_ the dark, tall and handsome stranger that everyone's been looking for," he shrugged.

"Do you?" Sebastian challenged with a raised eyebrow. "Really, Kurt? What do you _really_ know about me?"

"What do _you_ know about me?" Kurt flipped that one over on him and Sebastian found it a little funny. He was scooping cold vanilla ice-cream on his warmed-up pie, feeling the apples melt away and the cinnamon and cloves linger. Better foreplay than what he'd been getting with the guys that he'd been hooking up with recently. Not good enough.

Sebastian finished his pie. It was about the size of a starving hamster. No wonder he ate three the other day.

"I know that you're a joke," Sebastian just smirked at Kurt. "And that you owe Darla 4.99."


	4. Sebastian Gets Groceries

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Four: Sebastian Gets Groceries

* * *

Dave called Sebastian three minutes before he was going to bolt out the door to see him. He was in a yellow windbreaker that looked like something that came with an ad about the dangers of Sebastian's third sex partner, _Chlamydia_. It was the kind of yellow they told you to see a doc immediately. You know, when your spunk looked more banana pudding and less egg whites.

He was glad that his parents weren't home. They left a note on the fridge on hotlines for gay support. Yeah, he didn't need support. He needed three butt-plugs and a six-foot-something French businessman that was very _cock-monsieur_.

"Hey," Dave's voice was softer than melted icing on a stripper, and kind of comforting. "Do you got a second to talk?"

Sydney just walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, grabbed a carton of OJ and then chugged it straight.

_My name is Sydney. I drink juice every day, so I never get sick,_ Sebastian mocked. _It totally saved me from my life-threatening asthma._

Darla walked in straight afterwards, and Sebastian tried not to look at her too much. She was flushed, only in a towel—_Sebastian's_ towel. He knew what the hell those two did in _his_ bed, and if they wanted to live, they were going to have to buy him new sheets. He wasn't sleeping anywhere some chick rubbed her ass sweat on his Toy Story duvet from 2003.

Sebastian was more grossed out when they shared that carton. It disgusted him more than having three cocks in his mouth.

"No, I'm about to end the fucking call that I answered in like zero seconds," Sebastian rolled his eyes. He already had his phone in his hand because he was trying to figure out what kind of wheels he'd ultimately want to buy when he scored the dough. How the hell was he _so_ broke when he worked retail and he was leeching off everyone? "What's on your mind?"

Sebastian imagined Dave sitting leg-crossed on the ground, talking. "I spent all day thinking and—"

"—really? Thinking? _You_ can do that?" Sebastian snorted, as he walked into another room because he wasn't about to let his brother's girlfriend listen to him talk to the date he didn't even want to go to. "About how handsome I am? That I got abs of steel? That it's almost a tragedy that I look this good and you're taking me out to fucking _Breadstix?"_

There was a pause. Sebastian heard Darla say that she was making pancakes for their dinner. He felt anxious. What if Dave called because he got an urge, you know? To hurt himself? Sebastian didn't know _what_ he was going to say.

"I'm gonna have to cancel our date," said Dave instead. "I-I don't think it's… going to work out, like you said."

"Yeah?" Sebastian didn't like Dave that way, but it didn't mean that the blunt of rejection wasn't super painful anyway.

He never did so hot with that, because whenever one guy rejected him, he remembered the fact that he hadn't had a steady boyfriend in a while. And none of the guys that he was with were picture-perfect like Kurt and Blaine were. Sebastian wondered if it was because he was so damn picky. But he'd literally slept with guys that were old enough to be his dad.

The only kind of guy that he hadn't dated was probably the guys that were _dead_. Um… seriously?

"Hey, I'm sorry about that," said Dave, and it didn't help either. What was he sorry for? Sebastian didn't even _want_ to go out with him. "I don't know why I'm apologising because I'm pretty sure you only went out with me because you feel bad about rejecting me and calling me like one million pounds overweight, you know?"

_"One hundred,"_ Sebastian replied weakly. "Don't put words in my mouth," he could imagine Dave smiling.

"It's just… last night, I was in Scandals and I met this guy," Dave gushed, and Sebastian leaned back against the wall, because he tried not to be pitiful. But Dave had not been going to Scandals that long and he found someone? Come fucking on. "He was great. Let me buy him a few drinks. Pretty much the cutest guy I've ever seen—sorry, _second_ cutest…"

That made Sebastian smile. _Nice try, big guy,_ he thought to himself, but he still felt bad. Why? He didn't even _like_ Dave.

"Like _that_ could exist," Sebastian huffed. Inside, he was whimpering like a dog that had just been kicked.

"Yeah," Dave replied, laughing a little lightly. "Hey, Seb…? Uh…I wanted to—I didn't want to—"

"Whatever," Sebastian replied, and then felt a little uneasy. "But uh, you're still meeting me tomorrow for math?"

_You still want to see me even though you have no interest in fucking me anymore? w_as what he really meant.

"Yeah. Well, I never found such a nice, _free_ tutor," Dave joked, because Sebastian told him a bunch of times that most people paid for a guy like him to teach math to a guy that couldn't get around what an _octagon_ was. How was it that even the bear cub could get a guy and Sebastian threw away his goods like they were second-hand junk just to get attention?

"Plus, we're going to go to the gym next to Scandals after, right? So, we can work out and check out at the same time."

"Sure," Sebastian said, a little depressed at the fact that he didn't think that he was going to find his dream man sweating in front of him on the fucking Stair Master so that his calves didn't get too big for his skinny jeans. He couldn't scout out guys at a bar… he was going to do it at a gym? "But leave the checking out for me, bear cub. I have a feeling someone's going to go exclusive tomorrow," only for Dave to snort.

"Yeah right," replied Dave. "So… yeah…thanks. I guess?" And then they said his goodbyes before Dave up on him.

Dave was a good guy. He deserved a better guy than Sebastian fucking Smythe, you know? But still, it hurt. And he had a feeling like this was going to make their relationship fucking awkward. Especially because Sebastian couldn't believe that Dave ditched him after he offered to bring him to his house for the very first time. Relief washed over him first, because his fucking place was a dump. But then he felt annoyed, because no amount of fucking effort was enough.

Even his parents were on a date tonight. Did you know how absolutely _lame_ that was?

He retreated to his bedroom, putting his headphones on and listening to the worst Beatles songs he could think of.

Not caring about the fact that Sydney changed up his sex life by sharing bodily fluids with his girlfriend on _Sebastian's_ bed, Sebastian flopped down on his bed and listened. He scrolled through Instagram like it was his fucking daily mission. Dave posted a picture just twenty minutes ago. He looked good in that navy-blue suit and the shiny eyes. Fuck him. Santana Lopez posted a trashy picture, but even she was hanging out with her blonde girlfriend that was dumber than toast. Jeff Sterling posted a disgusting picture of him making out with Nick. Trent wasn't even in the country, because he left to go to Canada this weekend. He was busy eating doughnuts in front of views that could make Sebastian seethe. Fuck him too!

Even his fucking feed was lonely. He wasn't the kind of guy that posted only group photos where everyone suspiciously looked the same and you couldn't even pick out the person that you did know. Those were like a fucking quiz sometimes.

The last picture he had with someone was like 52 weeks ago. How fucking depressing was that? That was a fucking _year_.

Sebastian was so pitiful that he even reread Trent's message. _I_ _know the Karofsky thing has been sort of hard for you to deal with. And we don't think you should be alone. _He didn't feel any better, because he was an entitled fucking snob. Yeah.

After a few hours, Sebastian debated whether he should just bolt and go to Scandals because he felt super inept just sitting there on his bed, realising that his life was pretty much constituted of getting laid and making fun of people.

Case in point: he had nobody he could call at this time and it was like only like nine. Even when he used to have Blaine to talk to, their conversation used to be about as shallow as the kiddie pool. He had nobody in his life that knew how he felt like about anything, not even the therapist his parents briefly got him a year ago because he had _behavioural issues_. He didn't get how the whole _being nicer_ thing just happened… but it reminded him why the hell he became so devoid of fucking emotion in the first fucking place. Because these feelings _hurt_ _so damn much_.

It was easy to accept that people didn't like you because you were a dick. But it was hard to know people wouldn't be your friend even if you _weren't_ an asshole. Wouldn't you be a dick too? Because at least people would _have_ to talk back to you then.

As a kid, he was sweet enough to probably kill a diabetic, and because he was so nice, he'd feel _bad_ if he ever hurt anyone. There were times that six-year-old Sebastian used to come into his class, smelling like his mom's favourite perfume because he still slept next to his mom at night. He didn't get why she pushed him out, telling him to go to sleep in his own bed. Even at fucking six, he couldn't tolerate being alone. He had bad nightmares, because most of the kids in his school fucking terrorised him just because he dressed like a chick. Whenever he went to the bathroom, they used to grab his clothes and run off with them so that he'd limp into the playground, naked, looking for his shorts in the sandbox.

He'd gotten into so much trouble for that from the teachers because they didn't believe a fucking word he ever said. They thought that he _purposefully_ paraded around naked, because he loved flashing people when he was the size of a whale.

Financially, his parents weren't always this _blessed_. Ha. They used to be worse off. Sebastian grew up in a shoebox apartment that bred roaches like people bred dogs. They fought all the fucking time about money. His mom wouldn't spend a cent more than she had to. If she could cut blankets into clothes for them, she would... and she did. His dad stretched a buck the same way Santana Lopez's fake tits stretched her size-zero gym shirt. Most of his childhood was his parents persuading him to give the rest of his dinner to Sydney, the underweight asthmatic that wasn't even _hungry. _But he was the _nice_ kid, so he let them guilt him into doing that. Sebastian felt jealous of Sydney, but then felt bad about being jealous. Fuck that.

Growing up, Sebastian was a heavy kid. He didn't care about it much. Some people were just naturally heavier, you know?

But when he was a kid, his parents couldn't feed them both. And who cared if the fat kid ate, you know? Especially because his fucking twin was always ten or fifteen or sometimes _twenty_ pounds too thin, even though his inhaler was filled with cortisone. Sebastian thought that having asthma meant that he was dying, or something bad was going to happen to him. It wasn't until he grew up when he realised that asthma was the most ordinary thing in the world. He felt _cheated._

Fine, he knew. People _could_ die from asthma, but it didn't resonate with him why they treated Sydney like he was glass.

He didn't see what was the point of 'being nice' anymore if people were just going to try and take fucking advantage of him. Eight-year-old Sebastian used to stand by waiting for his mom to finish her phone call for an hour (for a kid, that was fucking eternity) just to show her something that he made for her in his fucking class.

Of course, she was so stressed out about bills that papier-mâché hearts didn't mean anything to her.

So, why the hell would he make them, endure the pain of having other kids call him a faggot, just so his mom would smile at him for like three seconds and then lose his stupid stuff a day after, you know? And his dad would rather take poor sick underweight Sydney to play baseball than take him. Even though Sydney had fucking _asthma_.

Whatever. Sebastian didn't care anymore about that kind of stuff, but it hurt to know that he went from running up to his mom to talk to her every day until he was fucking _fourteen_ before he realised nobody was listening to a word he even said, for fuck's sake. The sick truth was he'd only been like _so mean_ for two years, but his parents thought he'd _always_ been like this. He'd been fucking invisible until he became a problem, you know?

The awful stuff that Sebastian did to people was the _only_ things he had in his life now. He didn't even enjoy lacrosse or being in the Warblers anymore. The pathetic thing was that he was padding his resume so that he'd meet people that would like him. Yeah, two fucking clubs in a giant school filled with like twenty students each…his plan didn't go so hot. He was _rejected_ the first time he auditioned for the Warblers as a freshman. But now, he was _their captain_.

If he didn't do all that bad stuff, nobody would even know who he was. He wasn't _interesting_. He was… unremarkable.

He didn't hate football nearly as much as he led on. He didn't think that Sydney was _that_ stupid, or that Gay Face was _that_ pathetic. He didn't think any of that stuff as strongly as he made it seem. And you know, if he did win that Nationals trophy, Kurt still would've won one over him. Even that prudish Jewish dwarf was less pathetic than he was, you know?

Because they didn't need a stupid, sad trophy to validate their existence. They were _happy_ even as… as losers!

Sebastian didn't get it, you know? Despite their stress and faults, he had really nice parents that would have a fucking walrus if anyone hurt him. They were the kind of parents that sat down and ate dinner with you every day and asked you the same five questions just to let you know they cared even though they were too exhausted to care about it. They were the kind that called you pretty much all the time to know where you were. They made an effort. They weren't bad. But he didn't feel like he was a fucking part of the family. Hell, he had a fucking carbon copy of himself as a _brother_. But he and Sydney didn't click like twins were 'supposed to.' He and Sydney might as well be living in a different fucking house.

And when you didn't click with a guy that was a mirror image of you, then who were you supposed to _click_ _with_?

He knew that he threw himself around like a discounted beach ball because he'd always been so damn insecure about himself, but he drowned out that feeling by having sex for the umpteenth time that week. And now, he didn't like feeling _it_ again. The emptiness in his chest reminded him of how he felt like when he climbed up on his bed, not eating any of his birthday cake because his parents bought that strawberry stuff that he hated but poor little Sydney loved. They got the same presents, but it was always what _Sydney_ fucking liked. He felt like he could die in his bed and nobody would _care_.

Sitting here on his bed, pulling his sheets to himself, he decided to stop feeling sorry for himself.

Some guy that had giant biceps—Sebastian saved his number as a winky-face emoji—texted him: _come by 4 fuck?_ He didn't even know what this guy's name was anymore, but he was also the only guy that managed to text him in the last two days.

_Sure_, he texted. Sebastian agreed, but he didn't actually feel like it. But he was also feeling super sorry for himself.

_Sweet_, replied back that guy. _Wear black. It makes u look hot. Pizza ok? _

Sebastian was sick of eating pizza. He didn't even like it as much as most kids did. _Yeah,_ he replied back.

Sydney didn't even bother telling anyone where he was going when he walked out to the door. His parents just came home, because they were sitting there, laughing with his twin brother and his perfect girlfriend Darla.

As he opened the door to head out, his mom said, "Sebastian?" her voice was super soft.

"Yeah?" Sebastian asked, and then it was like something inside of him just flipped. _I can't do this I'm so fucking sad I can't stop throwing up I fucking hate everything you supposedly care so why don't you do something?_ Sebastian thought in about a second.

He was gripping so tightly onto the door handle, feeling hot tears spill from his eyes. He was frozen. Was he really meeting up with some guy to hook-up because he felt lonely in a apartment full of people? The nice thirteen-year-old kid in him would be fucking disgusted at what he thought, at how angry he was, at how much hate he had. _What the fuck was he doing?_

"Sweetie, can you get me some milk?" Nathalie asked. Sebastian nodded his head. If he talked his voice would crack.

"And eggs," Jean added on. Sebastian felt the need to bite back his tongue, because Sydney used all the fucking eggs to make pancakes with his stupid fucking girlfriend so why the hell was he using _his_ money to pay for _their fucking groceries?_

Sebastian nodded his head again, and he slammed the door to his apartment. _Loser_, he told himself.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Sebastian's boxers were on the ground next to a pile of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes that smelled heavily of bloated crust and grease-laden pepperoni. It didn't do well with his pregnant-chick-nausea, and it was all that he could focus on as he was pushed into the wall and rammed from behind. Sebastian opened his mouth to tell this guy off for using about a minimal amount of lube as possible, but he didn't feel like he could say nothing.

"So nice," the guy told him, grabbing a fistful of Sebastian's chocolate-coloured hair. "You're so hot, _shit_."

Sebastian had a feeling this guy didn't know his name either. "What's so hot about me?" he said, smirking.

Did you really think he came for _the fuck? _He came to hear this guy give his naked body analysis. He could jack off by himself, and the last time he had a real good orgasm involved a butt-plug, his shower head and a leather glove.

Blondie pulled up to look at Sebastian's face. Sweat was dripping from their face, body, his hands. "Your eyes."

Sebastian smiled a little, but he didn't feel much better. He and Sydney had the same eyes, you know?

"Shit, I want to come on your face," Blondie growled. Maybe Sebastian should try to find out his name.

He didn't feel good at all, and it was like his body was repelling every thrust of this guy.

Every time he pounded into him, Sebastian felt sicker and even more nauseated, you know? But it was over soon enough, and Sebastian faked his orgasm just because he didn't want his reputation as a cheap and good lay to go to waste. He worked hard to fuck half of the guys that went to Scandals. It didn't matter how bad the lay was. If he thought of enough hot guys, Sebastian came anyway. How was Blondie supposed to know that he wasn't at all interested in having sex with him? Sebastian was usually so trashed he didn't even remember how bad the sex was. But this was almost hilariously bad because Sebastian almost fell asleep against the wall. When you were able to fall asleep when a guy that was about as endowed as an elephant was fucking you, there was something wrong.

"Can I have a beer?" Sebastian asked, when the guy pretty much collapsed on the couch and nodded his head.

After they were done, Sebastian spotted milk and eggs in Blondie's fridge when he went for a beer.

Even though he wasn't going to come by Blondie's anymore, he felt bad. He hated himself as he walked away with this guy's stuff because he didn't want to spend his own money for his mom's fucking milk and eggs. How _selfish_ was that?

Before he walked upstairs, Sebastian grabbed the milk bottle. It was expensive, he realised, when he looked at the brand. He felt guilt and nausea wash over him and he leaned back against his car seat. What the hell was _wrong_ with him?


	5. Sebastian and Dave in the Lima Bean

_to **Guest**, i'm not sure about that idea because i have a mini scene with someone noticing old pictures of Sebastian from before around his house! because he used to be very 'stereotypical gay' as he'd say and it's a super big plotline for this fanfiction because of some other plotline i'm sort of dancing around. but i'll see what i can do... hopefully, it'll all come to place. but i appreciate your input and if you have any other ideas, i'm always thinking about adding some in._

_are you shocked if i tell you that there's a trigger warning for** sexual and physical abuse?** not in this chapter but more hinted at. it's like i can't help myself. i have to write a fanfiction with Sebastian being physically hurt. this was more a bad ex-boyfriend that might or might not be a super big plot later on... we'll see. i have many plot bunnies, but i don't know which ones to feed right now! _

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Five: Sebastian and Dave in the Lima Bean

* * *

Sebastian hated his job. He wanted to quit, because some customer came back and threw a pair of cunt blood-stained white jeans at him and demanded a refund. Yeah, over his dead fucking body she was getting a refund. Never was he so glad that he practiced cock-sucking as his major hobby so he wouldn't have to endure a chick's… _organic_ beetroot juice.

He also wanted to quit because Hunter Clarington was a fucking Nazi that paled at the sight of jeans that weren't folded in origami-like precision. They worked in this store that made clothes for waifs with tits and pretty guys with rounded asses.

This place smelled like a fruit salad gone rouge. He was nauseous all morning but then by two or three pm, he was fucking starving and ate enough to sustain the whole mall. Hunter showed his distaste by sterilising the store twenty-four-seven. This guy's arms were huge, but not because he worked out his chest twice a week, but because he cleaned the fucking cash register every time Sebastian looked at it. He also counted the money every time that Sebastian came and left, because he suspected that he stole whatever pennies they fucking made. Yeah, as if _that_ was going to get him a new set of wheels.

It didn't help that they looked like Gay Face regurgitated on his wardrobe: bright blues and pink hues that made him want to chug a little booze. Come on. And what was up with these shocking _flamingo-coloured jeans?_

"How fucking hard is it for you to count?" Hunter Clarington—who thought to refer to himself by his full name at every opportune moment like a serial killer on the loose—put down a pastel-pink plastic cup filled with a strawberry drink.

He called it a _drink_ because Sebastian wasn't sure that powdered concoction was edible. Hunter refused to take a lunch break because he thought that Sebastian was going to steal something. Seriously? What would _he_ do with Daisy Dukes?

What did this guy think that he did in the bedroom? Put on size-three panties and hump against discounted pantyhose?

"Plenty hard," Sebastian said, looking away from the jeans in Hunter's hands. He was supposed to price it forty-nine-ninety-nine, but instead priced it as fourteen-ninety-nine. Yeah, it was totally because he wanted to buy it and he wasn't going to pay nearly fifty dollars for a pair of jeans just because the rest of his had holes in them. With his employee discount, those jeans were almost going to be _free_. "I'm not paying nearly fifty fucking dollars for normal-looking jeans."

Hunter didn't sympathise with his situation. "I don't care about how poor you are, Smythe. If you don't spend all your much money on Starbucks and junk food, you'd be able to afford a pair of jeans," Sebastian hated Hunter for mentioning Starbucks because now, he'd probably kill for a chai frappuccino and a giant double-chocolate brownie. "And can you _please_ not make any snide comments when a customer asks for opinions on their clothing choices?"

Sebastian snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some fucking pasty bitch comes to me and asks me if she looks good in radioactive blue and I'm supposed to say nothing?" Yeah, those shirts didn't sell. Hunter blamed it on Sebastian, but he liked to think that he was being nice by making sure that the next Barbie wannable didn't have a top that could be detected from outer space. "I'm pretty sure that even _you_ had an antiboner when the shipment of that new stuff came in."

"Nobody wants advice from a guy that look like he found his clothes on the street, labelled _I'm free. Take me_." Hunter didn't even entertain the boner comment. "And you're pastier than any bitch I've seen."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he knew Hunter was onto something. He looked like a vampire that had been asleep in a coffin for the last few centuries. "Ha ha," he said. "You hurt me so much, Hunter. That's the worst thing I've ever heard being said about me. I want to _die_," he mock-whined, placing his hands on his chest in a pretend stance of agony.

Hunter's face was flat and expressionless. "Get back to work," he said, and then tossed the jeans back at him.

Sebastian was probably the laziest employee in the world, but it was only because Hunter was like a machine. Whenever he just stuffed a pile of not-really-that-well-folded shirts on one of the shelves, Hunter came around and fixed them so that they looked about twenty times smaller and prettier than it was when Sebastian did it. He once put a gag mouse in one of the customer's bags, and then tried to discreetly follow them until the food court, where they almost pissed themselves when they pulled out a five-inch fake mouse. Sebastian broke into Hunter's locker before, but he realised it was _boring_ and stuffed with stuff like his notes, his exam books and his prepped meals. His job was so boring, and they never really got any customers because they had better stores literally just right next to them. Hell, he'd even seen the dictator/health freak Hunter leave his job just to go into the next shop to buy a pair of jeans, but maybe because they didn't make any that fit his peachy ass. He'd _so_ be into Hunter if not for the fact that no level of attractiveness could make up for having a personality that was about as stiff as fucking five-year-old gum stuck to the bottom of his desk. Seriously.

Sebastian was so bored that he ended up working, which sucked because it meant that Hunter knew he could do his job without slacking off. But he took the risk. Whatever, you know?

He heard that Hunter used to be on roids and then they sent him to military school. The guy was pretty much as anal as they came, so he totally believed that story. He got pissed every time Sebastian asked him if it was true what they said about guys that took roids, that you know, your dick and balls shriveled to the size of fucking peanuts.

For a guy that was _not_ 'even remotely bicurious', he seriously had the biggest stick up his ass.

He didn't feel so hot at the end of his shift, even though he didn't have a headache or was nauseous. It was just feeling like he was going to throw up every day or actually puking plus the feeling of Thor's hammer bashing his skull every morning kind of made you feel run down for the rest of the day. And it was kind of like that exhaustion was accumulating, right?

Sometimes, he drank in the morning just to help get rid of the hangover feeling (why else would he have a headache at that time, you know?). And it must help, because by two or three pm, the feeling completely went away. Sebastian had such a high tolerance that he wasn't even a little buzzed by the amount he drank at home, even though his 'rents were telling him off for being an alcoholic in training. Sebastian didn't care though. Now, Sebastian was nice enough to do his chores without complaining, attend his classes (he usually skipped most of them) and go to Glee club without telling everyone off.

Last week, his French teacher, the chick from the Uptown Girl number, took him to one side today and told him that he was glad that he 'got his behavioural issues sorted out' (and she said it to him in perfect fluent French that it made him want to hurl.) Normally, Sebastian would lash out at this bitch for talking to him like that. He didn't care if it was a teacher: who told her that _he had problems?_ But instead, he felt his insides just crumble away and he realised that he didn't have enough bite in him anymore, you know? He felt like a fucking thin shell just about ready to break apart.

That same day during, crawled into the library during his lunch period and cried in a book, being pathetic. He cried more in the last fucking month than he'd ever had in his life, pretty much by himself. _Especially_ when he drank. What the hell happened to him? He used to be a happy drunk, and now, he was the sad, miserable drunk that wallowed in self-pity.

Whatever. After his shift was over, he met up with Dave in the Lima Bean. Sebastian asked him how the date was.

"It was pretty great," Dave replied. He showed him a picture of this guy and he was like drop-dead gorgeous. Sebastian had never seen him before, so he felt pissed that Dave could find a cute gay guy in Ohio that would go out with him. Meanwhile, Sebastian seduced white-haired guys that had fetishes for fucking little boys. "I'm seeing him tomorrow again. You were right, I guess. About us being exclusive, because he just texted me about making it Facebook official. But he didn't want people to start sending me all that mean crap that they did before I tried to kill myself. He's a pretty nice guy."

_I'm a pretty nice guy,_ Sebastian thought. _Or at least I try to be._ He didn't even _like_ Dave that way. What was wrong with him?

"You told him about _that?"_ Sebastian was kind of surprised. He didn't think he could ever tell a guy he'd seen for one night that he tried to literally kill himself just a week before. He didn't know if it was stupid, or brave. "It's just—I don't know if I would've said anything to anyone, you know. The whole I-almost-killed-myself-and-just-got-out-of-the-hospital thing is kind of hard for most people to grasp. It's just…not what I'd do." He hadn't really been talking to people like this for a while. He forgot that not everyone thought like him and wanted to hide everything about _their feelings_.

"Yeah, I know," Dave replied, "But I'm pretty sure that you're one of those people that think they're beyond feelings."

Sebastian beamed, as if having no emotion whatsoever was something to be proud about. "Well, big guy, it's not like I looked at you and thought that you were going to be having deep philosophical conversations with me to avoid math."

Dave groaned, ignoring the fact that he had his textbook in his backpack. "I thought we can get to know each other first."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I got other stuff to do today _besides_ tell you my life story," he pulled out a notebook he had in his back. Man, this notebook was old. Seeing his ex-boyfriend's name scribbled everywhere kind of made him realise that he used to hold his heart out on his sleeve. Pathetic. He momentarily considered going back to this guy—that, by the way, abused him shamelessly, mostly because he really believed that there was nobody else in the world that would want him. Oh God, he used to be so stereotypically gay that it almost _pained_ him to remember.

"That's cute," Dave noticed the doodles on his notebook. "You used to have a crush on someone other than Blaine?"

"I have a crush on a new guy every day," Sebastian shrugged shamelessly. He did. He probably fell in love with a guy every day. If a guy didn't treat him like absolute garbage, he'd be all over him. Which was shocking why he wasn't totally into Dave, who was nice to him. "Are you done avoiding homework? Because I _really_ do have other stuff to do."

They spent an hour working on his math. But at around eight at night, Sebastian just lifted his pen and felt like it weighed a fucking tonne. He was suddenly so tired that he could barely explain anything to Dave.

He kept repeating what to do on question two like five times in a row, and Dave didn't even ask him if he was okay. He got through half the questions he needed for his homework. Then he suddenly looked down and it was like the words didn't fucking make any sense. He'd say that they might as well be written in French, but he _knew_ French. Whatever.

"Do the rest yourself," Sebastian shoved the papers at Dave, who was surprised by how hostile it sounded. "I can't fucking do _everything_ for you just because you're fucking stupid," and then he wandered to the couch where he slunk back.

Dave looked a little surprised. "You don't have to be a dick about it just because you didn't sleep so good," he grumbled.

_You're trying to be a nice guy?_ A part of him just said. He bet that Dave's new guy wouldn't be so hostile.

"Whatever. It's not like I'm getting anything out of helping you," Sebastian replied, curling his legs up because every couch in the fucking world was too small for him. The Lima Bean was chill enough that he slept here before on exam days. But before he slept, he felt this niggling feeling of guilt, enough that he said, "Look, I'm sorry, it's just…I'm _really_ tired."

"Maybe if you'd cool it off the self-destructive rich kid lifestyle, you'd feel a little better," Dave replied bitterly.

That got to Sebastian, because he was in no way, _rich_. He slept with guys just so that they could buy him drinks. He worked at retail in his free time, and practically had to fight with his parents to take a few bucks every now and then. Every time he needed clothes for Dalton, there was a whole upheaval in his house and a monumental breakdown. But he also knew that Dave meant the whole getting-wasted-so-someone-could-love-him thing was _very_ 'rich, neglected white kid'. If only his fucking father would feel bad enough for him to buy him a car. He was more 'broke reckless white alcoholic'.

Sebastian snorted. "Yeah, because it's totally unusual for normal teenagers to crash at nine-fucking-pm on a busy day."

Dave didn't say anything to that, but he got up and walked over to the couch. "You're not a bad guy, you know," he said, as if he knew about how he stole Blondie's milk jugs (yeah, not a euphemism for a body part). He unzipped his oversized jacket, and then looked at him almost as if he pitied him. "But I think a part of you is convinced that you are."

"Whatever," Sebastian replied weakly, because he had no real retort. What was he supposed to say to that?

He was surprised when Dave covered the top half of his body with his crazy oversized soft jacket. Sebastian immediately eased into it, placing his head on the super soft seat. He didn't like Dave like that, but he wanted a guy that would do that for him like that, you know? Surprise him like that by being _so nice_. He was so over bad boys that gave you gonorrhoea and acted like they were into you but didn't mind stomping all over you for a fuck. Sebastian didn't get how Dave used to push people around. He really was a fucking bear cub… with a heart softer than that honey cake his mom made for him.

"This is a nice jacket," Sebastian said, and Dave just snorted before saying that he didn't wash it for like three days.

Sebastian didn't immediately go to sleep. He placed a hand under his head, looking at Dave with still-tired eyes, but you know, he felt weirdly happy. "Hey, they kept you in the hospital because they thought that you might have a heart problem, right? So what's the verdict? Are you—uh… your heart running okay?" he asked drowsily. He didn't actually know much about Dave. He didn't notice that he had a heart problem. Was he supposed to not drink with that?

"Maybe it ain't you just said," Dave rolled his eyes. "No…they figured I'm okay. So, yeah."

"Do you want to go out and get smashed now that you ain't gonna croak?" Sebastian wondered how he'd feel like. If someone told him he might have a fucking heart problem, he'd be devastated, you know? If he had a heart problem, he could like… die any second. And he couldn't drink booze. "You ain't exactly acting like it's the best news of your life."

Dave stopped writing for a minute. "I tried to _kill myself_, Sebastian. Did you forget that?" he sounded upset, and his voice was teary. "You think I cared about whether or not I got a heart problem? And like _you_ need more of the hard stuff. We barely even fucking talk, and I know you probably get deliriously drunk way too regularly for it to be okay."

Sebastian suddenly felt less drowsy and more awake. He sat up on his couch, looking at Dave and he almost felt like he could see through him for a second. He saw through that hard exterior that he had and saw that kind of scared, fucking unhappy part of him that pretty much shocked him. Sebastian curled up into Dave's jacket, feeling a little like a kid. What the hell was he supposed to do? He never actually had friends before, much less a friend that tried to _end his life_ a week ago.

"I guess," Sebastian didn't care. Yeah, Dave called him out on his drinking. So what? Let him join the fucking line.

"What do you even _do_ if you're not drunk and having sex with creeps?" Dave asked him icily. "Is that _really_ your life?"

That question cut to the very fucking core of him, because he knew that Dave was right. Sebastian didn't _do_ anything except for trying to find a way to ruin himself even more than he did. Beyond the spontaneous sex, the bad drinking, the fact that he smoked (which probably could kill Sydney but whatever) and the sometimes heroin shot that he took just to have a good reason to fight with his parents. It was pathetic, because above all, Sebastian had gone through stints of not drinking at all. He didn't need it. He just did it because it was his fucking safety crutch.

"It _is_ pretty sad," Sebastian agreed. He was surprised at the fact that he was calm. "But you got no right to try to make me feel like shit because you don't feel good about yourself, alright? It's not okay and I'm drawing the fucking line here because you can't do this again. You're my _friend_… remember? Otherwise, I _should_ make you pay for making you tutor you right after work and fucking Dalton classes, man. I'm not exactly fucking Superman here. I'm doing this because I actually want to have a normal friend. I want this to work without you trying to piss me off for no fucking reason."

Sebastian cocked his head to the side. How late was it anyway? He was exhausted. "Now, do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah… look, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to say it like that," Dave apologised. He did have a point though. It wasn't just pure malicious words. Sebastian knew that Dave had to feel that way about him, even if he wasn't saying it. "I just have issues with the whole being gay thing. It's just…I can't see an _out_, you know? It's not like… I don't _look_ like…"

"Do you think I _look_ gay, Dave?" Sebastian asked seriously. Most people would probably have him pegged straight if he didn't constantly have another guy's tongue down his throat. But he felt like a fucking sham, because right now, his fourteen-year-old self would be sitting on his room right now, probably trying to see if he could find somehow put on pink eyeliner without getting thrown off the cliff by the lacrosse team. How gay did you have to be to put on _pink liner?_

"No," Dave replied, but then ran his hand through his hair. "But if someone had to pick between you and I, then they're gonna pick me for the guy that totally isn't gay. And I don't do like… other stuff besides the whole fantasising about ass."

"You do realise that dreaming about cock is what makes you gay, right?" Sebastian asked. "Not shopping for tiaras. And you know, generally, people do not sit around and say: _oh, that guy would've looked straight if he wasn't sitting next to the fucking right guard from the McKinley's old football team_. And you know, if I wanted to, I could pass off but why the hell would I want to? You think that that's going to make you feel good, to think that there's something wrong with the way you _are?"_

Dave just shook his head. "I know that it's just like that but…" his wave wavered off a little. "My mom left my dad for a woman, you know? I don't wanna have one more fucking thing in common with my crazy bitch mom."

Sebastian was a little surprised, but he could understand this. He didn't want to have anything in common with Sydney.

"Hey…" Sebastian said softly. "I'm sorry that your mom isn't around. I mean that's for you and Gay Face to bond over a sappy scene…but you know, that doesn't mean that your dad sees you and thinks of her. It don't mean that he wishes that you were gone just because you want to play tonsil tennis with Gay Face instead of Fake Rack Lopez. She's the one that fucked up by screwing your dad over with some chick, not _you_. So, why the hell should you punish yourself for what she did? Besides, _I_ don't know many six feet tall chicks that resemble bear cubs… but—_uh_…." He didn't want to think about how weird that must be. His parents still were there, and the thought of them separating might actually give him convulsions. "_Fuck,"_ he didn't know what to say, so he just grabbed Dave's hands and then inched over. "Look… um…"

Dave's hands were so nice and warm. Sebastian's miraculously managed to be clammy and sweaty but also cold.

"It ain't worth your life over _this_," Sebastian said softly, not even sure what he was saying no more, or if it even helped.

Dave pulled his hands back, especially when Sebastian placed his hands back on his lap. "You're not so bad, Smythe," he smiled lightly. He wasn't convinced, Sebastian could tell, but he couldn't exactly hate him for trying, right? "But keep that up, and maybe you might have to start shopping for panties for your cunt. You even stuttered. It was _almost_ emotional."

"Please," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You'd tear a hole in your ass just to get with my inverted mangina."

He could see how dark it was outside, from the window just beside him. He almost missed the feeling of the cold air against his skin, and he half wanted to smoke outside next to a tree which he was helping kill by puffing away at his cancer sticks. But that felt familiar. Sitting inside the Lima Bean, with that nice fire warming up his bones and this amazing jacket over his old stretchy jeans kind of felt good. Especially with the coffee that he was drinking that sank to his fucking bones.

Dave didn't say anything, but Sebastian had a feeling it wasn't like his words gave him a miraculous epiphany. And he got that. If someone told him to get over all the stuff he'd been dwelling over for years, he wasn't going to exactly snap out it.

Sebastian ordered them another two coffees – his treat, even though he was fucking skint. They zapped through problems eight to eighteen in like ten minutes, and they spent the rest of the night sitting on the couch. He wished he could say that he spent the time looking outside and admiring the big, fat whole moon or the stars sprayed on the sky like his mom's bad icing sugar on their cake-mix-made chocolate cake for the school bake sale when he was nine. It was a defective bag because Sebastian used to pop the top open from the icing bag, and then suck on the baby-blue sugar concoction until he felt the sugar stick to the roof of his tongue. He wasn't really looking at any pretty stuff. He was looking at the milk swirl into his coffee, which was lacerated with too-sweet crunchy toffee bits and a mountain of whipped cream. _Very_ in the moment. But it wasn't exactly like it changed the course of his fucking life. But it made him feel good. And _that_ was good.

You ever wonder if a moment meant more to someone else than it did to you? Sebastian felt like that to Dave. Like he could almost see this guy pretty much contemplate his fucking life, just sitting there with his long black.

"You know, if you want to tell me a secret," Dave said, looking at the rim of his cup. "_Now's_ a pretty good time."

Sebastian snorted. He tried to think of a less lame way for Dave to tell him that he wanted to know some deep, dark secrets. He poked the tip of his cup with his finger and sucked off the froth. Tasted like nothing. He drank his coffee without the lid, less for aesthetic-reasons and more for the fact that if he was paying for a cup, he better knew what he was drinking down to the very fucking coffee-dirt-granules at the end of the cup.

"Sure," Sebastian replied, rolling his eyes. "I get that you wanted to bail on our date, because, you know, you met _that_ guy, but I don't get why the hell you didn't—you know—take a raincheck on coming to my place? Or at least mention that you still were curious about seeing a place I didn't fucking show nobody before? _I_ don't get it, Karofsky."

"That's not a secret," said Dave, but his voice was only half-joking. He was surprised. "But yeah, uh… you told me that I would be the first guy that actually went into your place," he said, as if remembering how big of a deal it was.

"Yeah," Sebastian said, looking down at his knees. "I didn't invite my ex-boyfriend to my place."

Dave kind of figured that Sebastian wasn't inviting him again, so they just sat there for a while. "How was he like? Your old boyfriend?" Dave asked, because he couldn't think of anything gayer to ever ask him. "He a good guy?"

Sebastian just sat up and looked at his tattered black shoes. Dalton his fucking ass. "No," he said.

Dave reached over to hold Sebastian's shoulder and squeeze it, like he was trying to be comforting but it just made the whole room look like it was close to spinning. Sebastian suddenly became very nostalgic and wanted to go come. His mom made chicken potpie with that Campbell stuff and frozen vegetables. Suddenly, he was fucking _starving_. Sydney texted him like an hour ago and said that he saved some for him in their tiny fucking oven. Whenever Sebastian opened that oven door and inhaled, he was sure that he managed to kill his lungs more than he did when he was puffing away at his cigarettes. He wanted to sit on the ground, with his back against their comfy chair and eating it off the floor when playing _Mass Effect_.

Sebastian just placed his head against Dave's shoulder. "Nobody's gonna think you ain't sucking cock now."

"Yeah," Dave agreed, realising how positively gay they probably looked like. But this was the Lima Bean, which sold rainbow lattes for pride. Sebastian relaxed a little. It was like closer to ten, but he couldn't help but close his tired eyes.

Before he grabbed Dave's phone and then wrote his address out. "This is my place," he said. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna have to fucking carry me out cause I'm like one second from falling asleep, man." And if Dave had brain cells, he'd know that if he _dared_ try to carry Sebastian out, he might fucking kill him.


	6. Sydney in a Bar

_hey guys, i just wanted to apologise i uploaded chapter 7 before chapter 6! i hope you go back to read this because it'll make chapter 7 make more sense... sorry!_

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**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Six: Sydney in a Bar

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When Sydney woke up at three in the morning to take a piss, he realised that Sebastian hadn't come back home yet.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he grabbed his jacket and put on his shoes as quickly as possible. He was still in his shabby, three-extra-large Batman pyjamas but he honestly didn't care. Consumed with anger, he burst into his parents' room. Their king-sized bed was wedding-dress white, and their room was pretty much bare except for their work clothes and family pictures. Sydney didn't even think that they got it on much since his dad worked two jobs.

He grabbed the keys on the dresser. He didn't feel bad when his mom switched on the lamp beside her. "Sydney? Where are you going at this time?" Nathalie sounded worried. He wanted to scoff. "You can't go out this time. It's not safe."

"Where am _I_ going? It's not safe?" Sydney flushed with hot-red rage. "Where's your other fucking kid?" he snapped.

"What's going on?" his dad woke up. Jean looked drowsy. "Syd, what are you doing here? It's three in the morning!"

"Yeah, dad," Sydney looked at him with disdain. "I know it's three in the morning. _WHERE_ the hell is Sebastian?"

"He hasn't come back home?" his mom was shocked. She was honestly crazy. Did she not know how late Sebastian stayed up pretty much every night? She sat up; her baby-pink nightgown was too small for her voluptuous figure. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure!" Sydney replied hotly, blonde hair falling into his eyes. "It's not like he does this every day, mom!"

His mom looked like she was blinking away tears. Who accused their mom of being a bitch at three am?

"Do you know how fucked up this is?" Sydney continued yelling. "Sebastian has gone out every damn night for the past three years to drink himself to death and sleep with guys that are older than dad? And-and we… we just got so used to it that nobody thinks that it's weird anymore!" he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was seething.

He felt hot tears run down his face. _You're not any better_, a part of him said. _How did you let him do this for YEARS?_

His parents didn't even bat a bloody eyelash when they went to bed tonight. What was up with that? It was kind of terrifying to think about how used to this they were. It wasn't like Sebastian was out drinking overpriced coffee. They all knew that he was in a bar, getting way too drunk and sleeping with guys that was way too old for him. Plus, he'd been drunk driving for _years_. What were they waiting for? His drunk fat ass being hit by a semi? Him getting fucking _raped_ in the bar because some guy wouldn't leave him alone? Sydney didn't even want to think about how many times Sebastian could've easily been taken advantage of. Glossy-eyed, drunk and going to bars _alone_ pretty much all the time… it must be super lonely for him to feel like the only person that could take him back home was himself. How fucking sick was _that?_

No wonder Sebastian had such a fucking attitude! Sydney would have an attitude to if nobody cared if he wasn't in bed at three in the damn morning. He wondered if the people that thought he was mean would cut him slack if they knew this.

"Look, Syd, it's not like that…" even his dad looked like he was sobering up. Jean was paler than a ghost.

"Then what is it like?" Sydney challenged, his hands shaking a little. He felt sick thinking about it. Because he should be thinking this all the time. "Your teenage kid is at a bar at this time, and you're _SLEEPING! _What are you waiting for, anyway? For Sebastian to disappear for three fucking days before you think of doing something about it?"

Sydney stormed out of the apartment. He walked down their million flights of stairs to get to his dad's new car (elevator was broken. This building was so old that Sydney could feel the asbestos burning through his lungs). When he got into the car, he didn't even bother putting the key in the ignition. It was like all the crap hit him at once. He just sat behind the wheel and then cried because he was so overwhelmed. Holy cow. He cried until he felt numb and his face was puffy.

If Sebastian was sitting there beside him, he'd tell him to suck it up. But he couldn't. When he tried to calm himself down, he just cried even more. With eyes blurred with tears, Sydney tried to type in Scandals' address in his dad's GPS, but he felt even worse when he realised how far away it was. How did Sebastian make this trip every day? No wonder he never had any money if he spent it all on all that gas! Did he seriously solely have a job just to get trashed all the time?

Before he drove off, his mom got into the car. She'd changed into a pair of old faded jeans and a coffee-stained shirt.

"Get out of the car, Sydney," his dad said when he opened the door. He applied enough cologne to probably kill Sebastian. He smelled so bad that it was kind of funny. "I'm driving," he sounded dead serious.

"Fine," replied Sydney. He just felt so wrecked already. You'd think they would've done something about way before?

Sydney sat in the backseat of the car. He could imagine Sebastian looking confused if he just turned up randomly and demanded he came home. As he closed his eyes, he imagined Sebastian sitting by the bar, drinking beer like water and flirting with some sixteen-year-old pretty face with blonde hair and tight abs. Because that was the best-case scenario, alright? He didn't even want to think about the worst-case scenario. Thinking about it made him want his inhaler. His mind blanked out when he tried to think of the last time that he saw Sebastian come back from the bar. He couldn't remember any of the stuff he wore because he knew overtime, they just kept getting racier and racier.

"I can't believe that we took this long to…" Sydney was whispering mostly to himself. He was ashamed.

"Sydney? I… we do care about him," Nathalie decided to say two minutes after they started driving to Scandals. "I don't know how this became so normal for him to—it was just so hard… it's just when you were a kid, your…"

"Yeah, I know," Sydney tried not to think about it. His 'asthma'. He was never diagnosed with asthma in his life. He barely gained weight as a kid and the doctors said he had cystic fibrosis. He ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair. He hoped his dad never got a heart attack from all that crap he ate. His mom would probably tell Sebastian that their dad had frequent _indigestion. _"Mom, Sebastian does not need you protecting him all the time. Especially if you're going to let him stay up until five in the morning, drinking booze and getting fucked in the ass by strangers."

"You know how he's like. He's so sensitive," his mom was gesturing with her hands. "I couldn't possibly just…"

Yeah, sensitive. Sydney sighed deeply. Because Sebastian was gay! That was why he was so sensitive.

The colder he acted, the more she felt like she had to talk to him like he was a kid. She didn't know how to treat him any different. Overnight, he just randomly went from this guy that she went shopping with all the damn time to buy cute discount clothes to this kid that acted like he was as tough as nails. They used to sit around the apartment all day, talking about what they'd buy when they got the money! Sydney was sure that his mom vividly remembered the times where eight-year-old Sebastian used to come home and throw himself at her arms. He used to complain about how he didn't want to go to school no more because all the other kids were pushing him around because he wore women's perfume.

"He's not sensitive, mom," Sydney disagreed. "He got another gay guy to nearly kill himself. He nearly blinded some other guy. He wanted to blackmail an entirely different guy with badly Photoshopped pictures of him with a tiny dick…"

He wondered what Sebastian would think if he realised his mom treated him like he was practically glass. She never said anything about what he did because she felt like he was going to shatter any second if he knew that they were on the verge of a divorce. Yeah, Sebastian didn't know that either. His mom had been trying to delay signing the papers for five fucking years because she thought it would literally break him into pieces if he knew that his parents were sick of each other. His mom had a boyfriend that Sebastian had never even met! They were going out for ages. His mom wanted to marry him.

Nathalie scoffed. "You _think_ he's not sensitive because he acts like he's not," she told him. "He went to the same school as those horrible people that made Sebastian's gay guy friend try to kill himself! He didn't need to know how sick you are."

Sydney was sure that Sebastian resented him. It would've been so much easier to explain to Sebastian that the reason why they always made him fork over his plate to Sydney was because Sydney _had_ to gain weight.

"And then after that, he was dating that asshole for a while. Had to pick him up from his house a few times," Jean remembered, his knuckles tightening on the wheel until they went bone-white. "I hated that fucking narcissistic prick."

"Yeah," Sydney nodded his head. He remembered the days where Sebastian came home from his dates with Colton and cried until five in the morning as clear as ever. He legitimately believed that Sebastian was depressed enough _to kill himself._ Whenever he tried to approach him, Sebastian would screech at him and tell him to go hang himself and leave him alone. He remembered going to therapy one day with his dad and confessing to his therapist that he never wanted to do his homework because all he could think about was the fact that Sebastian barely slept and ate. His mom tried to force him to eat and used to crush Valium in some hot cocoa she used to make for him at night just so he could sleep.

Whatever that guy did to Sebastian fucked him up. He started lying, pushing around kids for nothing, going out late at night, and sleeping with anyone. Sydney got why his mom and dad ignored it—because _that_ was still better than what he was like with his boyfriend pretty much effecting his mood all the time. By the time that Sebastian got his scholarship to Dalton, he went from being this sweet big guy that played lacrosse to this thin empty shell that hated everything. He picked on fights all the time. He made his mom cry and he didn't even care as long as he got his way in the end. It was _so bad_.

Deep down, Sydney knew why it was the way it was. He knew that it was better than to let Sebastian do whatever he wanted, because it was easier than trying to control him. If his dad told him to stop smoking, Sebastian would smoke twice as much out of spite. If they told him not to skip so many classes, he wouldn't go to school at all for days. If they told him not to be out so late, he just didn't bother coming home. But Sebastian was so damn self-destructive, and Sydney knew, deep down, that they couldn't just let him do whatever he wanted even if he screamed and called their mom a _stupid bitch_.

The rest of the drive was quiet, and the road was clearer than water. Sydney was so out if it he didn't even realise where they were until they parked in front of Scandals. He didn't even care about how cold it was.

"I can't believe I've never been here," his mom told Sydney, and he nodded his head. He got that. Sebastian had been going to here for years, and they didn't know how it looked like on the inside. It kind of made Sydney feel nervous. You know when you were living in a fantasy for so long that the reality of something kind of terrified you?

Jean didn't look like he approved. "It doesn't look that great," he paled when he noticed a couple of college students standing by a car, pretty much making out heavily. Their shirts were off. He was a little surprised.

Sydney nodded his head. "Yeah," he was still clad in gigantic pyjamas and an oversized jacket. "I know."

He didn't know if he wanted to go into a gay club, especially not with his parents. He didn't feel safe, which made him wonder how the hell _Sebastian_ felt safe. Was it like a gay guy thing to feel okay to go to a gay bar? Or was it just going to a bar in general? Seeing some guys walk outside, reeking of booze, made him feel gross.

The club was one of those raging, always-loud-always-busy-and-dirty kind of clubs that made Sydney nervous. Yeah, he was on the football team, but he was probably the uncoolest football player in the world. Sydney felt claustrophobic walking inside, with his parents behind him. The bouncer was not happy about letting them in, but begrudgingly allowed it on the basis that they were retrieving their seventeen-year-old kid. He didn't want his parents to call the cops and make a scene. The place smelled like a mixture of sweat, sex and booze, which made Sydney feel lightheaded and anxious.

He didn't know it was going to be this hard to find someone that was six-foot-fucking-two, but it was so damn hard.

Sydney then noticed a guy standing by the bar. He recognised him immediately as the guy that tried to kill himself. Sydney knew how he looked like because Sebastian leafed through his Facebook all the time after he heard the news. Besides him was one of the gay guys that Sebastian hated—Kurt _something_—and Blaine, who Sebastian had a crush on. Sydney didn't feel good being here. Besides, didn't Sebastian tell him that those two were boring and didn't go to bars?

He was about to ask them if they'd seen him. But then Sydney heard them say Sebastian's name, so he just stopped and eavesdropped. He didn't even feel bad for doing it. Why should _he_ feel bad? He didn't know these people.

"I don't think Sebastian is a bad kid," the guy that tried to kill himself, Dave, was telling them. "It's just that I don't know what to think about him. He's kind of like… he's _fake_, you know? He's not real with me. It kind of surprises me that he's so two-sided. Even when we talk, it's not like he tells me stuff about anything. He knows about my mom for God's sake."

"I know," the pretentious looking one, Kurt he thought, was nursing a Coke. "Apparently, he's trying to be nicer! I'd love to see how long he lasts on this particular endeavour. He's like a bad cartoon villain about to go wild any second. He said I looked like I was going to a _wedding_ when I saw him for lunch. God, that place—deep-fried everything. It's grotesque."

Dave laughed, shaking his head. "Oh yeah, he took you to that sub shop," he said. "Did you like your date?"

"Hardly," Kurt rolled his eyes. "He made me pay for his pie, bitched about me to a waitress and left. How very civil."

"He texted me a few days back, but I didn't reply back yet. He wants to get together too," Sydney knew Blaine, because Sebastian had totally been checking him out on Instagram for months. Not recently though. It kind of made him wonder what Sebastian saw when he looked at the guy. He wasn't exactly one of those stunning gorgeous guys that looked like they were real-life sculptures. His older brother, the guy from those free credit rating commercials, totally was though. "I don't actually get it. He wants to get together with me and you, but blows off the Warblers when they invite him even though they obviously care more about him than we do? Trent said that Sebastian told him that he wasn't feeling so good that day and that's why he blew them off. But the next day, he wants to see me? It just… I don't get the way he thinks."

Dave laughed. "That kid always feels like fucking shit," he rolled his eyes. "It's either his die-hard party lifestyle or he's faking to try and cop out but pretend to be nice by saying he doesn't feel great instead of telling them that he'd rather not see them. But it kind of reminds me of my mom. She used to do that all the time with my dad. She always used to tell him that she was sick when she wanted someone to take care of her and pay extra attention to her."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Sebastian being an attention-seeker?" he feigned. _"_No… impossible!" he mocked.

"Isn't that a reach?" Blaine interjected, rubbing his neck. He seemed like one of those nice guys that felt bad when they were saying bad things about someone. "He always says he's not feeling good, so it _must_ be because he's an attention-seeker? I can't imagine I'd feel great either if I was filling my lungs up with smoke and booze on a regular basis."

Kurt just looked amused. And Sydney wanted to strike that look off his face. "Oh, yes, his _fulfilling_ lifestyle of—"

"And you guys are _so_ damn nice, aren't you?" Sydney's voice was shaking when he confronted them. When Kurt, Blaine and Dave looked over at him, Sydney just went off like a bomb. He didn't get these people and they infuriated him so damn much. "Did you seriously just call my brother fake and two-faced? And you're just making fun of him for trying to be better? That it's not fucking enough _effort_ for you? Screw you! What do you want him to do? _Suck you off?"_

Kurt was surprised at seeing Sydney stand there, puffing out his pink cheeks. "_You're_ his twin?" he asked.

Sydney looked stunned. "No, I just happen to look exactly like him! What the hell do you think?" he mocked. He had three buttons flying out of his old Batman pajamas when he was gesturing around wildly with his hands. "You don't even know that there's two of us, but you're sure you have his fucking personality down to a T?"

"You're—um…" Blaine tried to deviate away from the rage that Sydney felt. "Uh, I just never saw—"

"I was going to ask if you know where Sebastian is, but it's not like _you_ know!" Sydney shrieked. "By the way, since you know that Sebastian comes here like clockwork and you're just sitting there chatting away about his fucking bad drinking problem, the least you could've done is make sure he didn't completely kill his liver. But he doesn't deserve that, right?"

"Your brother nearly blinded my boyfriend!" Kurt shot back angrily. "Why should we care about what he does?"

Feeling hot tears fill his eyes, Sydney felt his hands shake. "I didn't realise that good people like _you_ had to have a good reason to give a shit about someone that obviously has a problem!" he fired back. "It was a prank gone fucking wrong! But what do you want him to do about it? He already apologised for it."

Kurt looked down at the ground, irritated. "He doesn't look sorry for it," he argued.

"You can read emotions now?" Sydney replied back. "Why the hell should he bear his fucking soul out to a guy that thinks that he's fake and emotionless? As far as I could see, _I_ don't know why the fuck he's trying with pricks like you!"

"Is he okay?" Blaine suddenly stood up, holding his beer which he barely drank out of. "We can help you look for him."

Sydney felt defeated as his mom walked over to them, looking concerned. It must be weird to be the only woman in a gay club. His dad joined in just then, his plaid shirt slick with sweat as he took in Dave, Kurt and Blaine.

"Are these Sebastian's friends?" Nathalie asked. "Are they going to help us look for him? Do you know where he is?"

"We… we don't know," Blaine looked stunned. "But we can help look for him. I didn't realise that it was a big thing."

"Don't bother!" Sydney yelled coldly. He hoped Sebastian never talked to these people again. "Screw you!"

"I don't understand," Nathalie replied. "Why shouldn't they bother? Was there a fight between them and Sebastian?" she followed Sydney as he stormed of, trying to get him to explain what happened but he didn't bother.

Sydney just shrugged. "That's the guy that Sebastian nearly blinded," he said. "You made him apologise to his family?"

"Oh yes," Nathalie still looked confused. "And his boyfriend? And wasn't that the boy that tried to kill himself?"

"Yes, mom, yes," Sydney didn't know how his mom was up to date with all the gossip and crap that went on in Sebastian's life. He could barely keep up. It seemed like every week; he pissed off some new people. Like those Warblers?

Jean nodded. "I hope he likes that cake your mom made," Nathalie just glared at him. "What? What's wrong _now?"_

After scouring through most of the club twice, Sydney was wondering if maybe he got the wrong place. He was growing more anxious and erratic and didn't feel good. Even though he told them to fuck themselves, Dave, Kurt and Blaine followed Sydney around the club, trying to talk to some of the regulars on if they'd seen Sebastian or not.

"If you were meeting up here and you knew Sebastian came here regularly," Sydney said, feeling irritated, "Then why didn't you just invite him too? I'm sure that the only requirement you need for a gay meet-up is being gay. And at least we'd know where the hell he is! Because I saw his stupid old car in the parking lot so he must be here."

"He wasn't with either of you?" Jean was not keeping up either. "And where are your parents?"

"Out of town. And this is my second time coming here," Kurt replied. "Sebastian and I have a complicated relationship."

"No," Sydney responded back almost immediately. "Do you know why it's a complicated relationship? Because you make it complicated. You think that Sebastian is like this inexplicable asshole that only thinks of himself! But he's not. And you're not even giving him a fucking change to prove that he's not before you bad mouth him in a fucking bar."

"Your brother can be an inexplicable asshole, love," his mom tried to remind him, which totally wasn't Sydney's point.

Blaine seemed to agree with Sydney's. "You're right," he said. "We can call it even I guess."

"I'm tentative about that," Kurt said, his eyes glossy and proud. "But sure. I suppose it isn't fair because he's trying."

Jean shook his head. "I'm still not sure about why that happened," his dad sighed. "I'm sure that it has something to do with this damn bar and… wherever the hell he is. I just don't think he wants to change just like that."

"Yeah," Sydney's voice was low, but his throat hurt, and he found it hard to move across the room to look for Sebastian. The music was too loud. He wasn't sure how everyone else could hear him when he was whispering. God, he couldn't believe that he was in a gay bar with his parents and Sebastian's not-really-friends. "I'm so tired," he yawned.

After an hour, Sydney went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Kurt and Blaine decided to go in with him.

"I need to fix my tie," Kurt told Sydney. Blaine flushed when he said something about the beer going straight through him.

"It looks fine to me," Sydney replied about Kurt's tie. Who wore a nice-looking tie to a shithole like this?

In the bathroom, Sydney froze when he watched some old guy that smelled heavily of cheap cigarettes slap Sebastian across the face. That vision was probably going to be ingrained in Sydney's brain forever. He watched Sebastian cup his already-swollen-red cheek, standing there with his heavily tattooed chest and back. He was wearing the shortest pair of black shorts that Sydney ever laid eyes on and they were ripped around his ass. Were they like that when he bought them?

Something in Sydney's brain said no. They probably had something to do with the fact that Sebastian had _cum in his hair_.

The second that the old guy noticed that they weren't alone, he sped past Blaine and Kurt, practically knocking Blaine down into the piss-stained bathroom floor. Sydney felt his headache. No wonder Sebastian had all those damn headaches!

Sydney grabbed Sebastian's clammy hand and noticed how strongly of alcohol he smelt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," replied Sebastian, because wearing less clothes than a prostitute and smelling like he'd just taken a dive in hard liquor was totally the essence of being fine. Sydney wondered how he did that when he was complaining about some stupid math test that he had to take for school tomorrow. Did he just want to give himself more problems?

"You're not fine," Blaine just placed a hand on Sebastian's swollen cheek and his response was to immediately flinch. "Do you need ice for that?" he asked, and Sebastian just shook his head. "What the did guy hit you for?"

"Is that you, Gay Face?" he slurred, looking at Kurt. "Isn't it past your curfew? What would your dad say if he knew?"

"It's more about what _yours_ is saying right now," Kurt replied with a slight smirk.

Sebastian looked like he sobered up momentarily. "My dad is here?" he flushed deeply, hands shaking. "Are you fucking serious? What for? Did someone fucking die? Is he rediscovering his sexuality at the ripe age of forty-fucking-eight?"

"No, he's worried that his kid is going to going through alcohol withdrawal at school tomorrow," Sydney jeered.

He led Sebastian out of the bathroom and into the bar. Sebastian looked like he wanted to throw up when he realised that indeed, his parents were there and looking at him like they didn't know how they were supposed to approach him.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Jean's voice made Sydney jump. "Do you _want_ people to take advantage of you?"

Sebastian was staring down at the ground. He was mumbling something under his breath.

"What did you just say?" it didn't matter to Jean that the loud thrashing of _Livin' on a Prayer_ was blaring through the speakerphones or that Sebastian's friends were there. He looked genuinely freaked out.

Sebastian closed his eyes as tightly as possible, his cheeks red and flushed. "I don't know where the rest of my clothes are."

Sydney's suspicions were confirmed. He didn't come here wearing shorts that were ripped at the arse, which meant that someone had done that to him. Because he couldn't imagine even a drunk-out-of-his-face Sebastian ripping them off.

"And when did you get so many of those _things_ done?" Jean was starting to sound more asthmatic than Sydney. He was furious. Sydney thought it was good. His dad finally woke up. "You look like you're a fucking criminal!"

Sebastian looked down at his body as if he'd just noticed how many tattoos he had.

Sydney was staring at Sebastian like he was seeing him for the first time. Sebastian looked broken as he was clutching onto his cheek. Was he really an alcoholic? Sydney unzipped his jacket and slowly placed it on top of his twin's body.

"God, Sebastian," Nathalie was eying him and sighed deeply. "Why is it so hard for you _not_ to look skeletal?"

"You lost weight," Sydney said, surprised. He never got used to Sebastian's weight ever since he'd gone from being a heavy kid down to looking like he had less flab than carrots, but Sebastian was starting to look _too_ thin. Sydney was surprised when he'd put on the jacket and noticed Sebastian's shoulder blades sticking out. "You don't look good."

"Yeah," Dave seemed surprised by that too, like he'd just noticed the fact that Sebastian was smaller. "You on a diet?"

"What the hell would _I_ be on a diet for?" Sebastian offered a look of disgust. Sydney knew from experience that the only stint of weight loss that Sebastian had was because when Sebastian was really depressed, he didn't eat at all. Even when his parents used to make him give up his food to Sydney when they were kids, Sebastian just kept getting bigger because he'd pack away three times as much during lunch. It was like he was scared he wouldn't eat that night, so he practically binged when he had the chance. But Sydney felt sick holding Sebastian's shoulder and realising how bony he got. It wasn't _normal_.

He was sure that Sebastian ate loads, but he was also throwing up in the morning too. Did he have an eating disorder?

Sebastian clung onto Sydney's arm. "What are you doing here?" he slurred. He was so drunk. _Did he drive like this?_

"I'm here to take you home," Sydney said, trying to guide an uncoordinated Sebastian outside of the bathroom. Dave kept apologising to him as they walked out. "Didn't I tell you that I'm sick of you hurting yourself like this? That the next time you go to a fucking bar, I'm going to drag you back home? You're not doing this again, okay? _You're not_."

Sebastian tried to pull away, but he was so weak, tired and intoxicated. "Fuck you," he hissed.

"I'm so scared! What are you going to do, Sebastian? Try to take a swing at me? You can barely stand up by yourself!" Sydney sneered mockingly, as he dragged him through all those half-naked sweaty bodies. Sydney was sure that he contracted a bunch of venereal diseases just by taking deep inhales. He'd need a new nebuliser after tonight.

Sydney looked over at Sebastian, as if he was trying to see past that weird hard exterior that he put up. He wondered what happened to him. He used to be this thirteen-year-old kid that was obsessed with wearing gold eyeshadow to school. He remembered sitting in the Thurston cafeteria, with Sebastian pulling out a sandwich from his bag, smiling. Some guy made some off-handed comment about how he didn't know faggots came in that size. Sydney wished he said something back.

"What do _you_ want?" Sebastian weakly asked Kurt, who was looking at him. He was still shivering even with the jacket.

"I suppose Blaine and I owe you an apology for ignoring you," Kurt opened the door for Sebastian. "I'll see you at the Lima Bean tomorrow," to which Sebastian responded to by spitting at Kurt's pretty shoes.


	7. Sebastian's Behaviour is Weird

_new edit: to those that have noticed that i've uploaded the same chapter... it's because i uploaded chapter 7 before i uploaded 6! i thought i already had...i apologise profusely for the mistake.  
_

_to __**HarryPotterLover333**, i only noticed that i didn't upload the chapter when you asked me what was wrong with Sydney since i explained it in Ch. 6 (in Sydney's point of view just like this chapter and unfortunately i didn't upload it) and he explains why! i'm so grateful for your review otherwise this probably wouldn't have been noticed that there was such a difference... ouch!_

_i have a plotline but you'd have to pretend that Blaine and Kurt are the same age for that to work. so in this universe, Sebastian and Blaine are not the same age but Kurt and Blaine are (both being 18 that is).  
_

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Seven: Sebastian's Behaviour Is Weird

* * *

Sydney couldn't believe that he'd invited Dave, Blaine and Kurt into their rat-infested apartment at five in the morning. Sebastian was already half-asleep, burying his head into Sydney's shoulder as he climbed through _x_ flights of stairs.

"The stupid fucking dick," Sydney hissed coldly, as Sebastian swayed with every step. As they walked up the stairs, Sebastian was just acting more intoxicated by the second. "How the fuck do you drive like this?"

_"M' fine,"_ Sebastian slurred, giving him a pointed look. Even his lip was shaking. "Asshole."

Sydney stopped a few times when trying to walk up, just to rummage around for his inhaler. It was like there was no oxygen in the air and he was suffocating from the smell of stale Cheetos wafting from room number three—which was haunted, and the dust-covered trash cans in the hallway. He almost wished he had the nasal prongs from the hospital just so he could breathe a little better. But you know what was gross? Taking a selfie with that huge plastic thing on your face.

At the top of the stairs, Sebastian collapsed at the top step and decided to pull out a cigarette from his pocket. Their parents were already upstairs, and Sebastian was sitting there with shorts ripped at the ass, smoking on the cold hard ground.

"Get up," Sydney was pissed at him. When Dave tried to take Sebastian's cigarette away, he spat at him. Gross bastard.

"Get the fuck away from me," Sebastian pushed Sydney off him. He had the strength of a five-year-old. "I wanna smoke."

"Thanks for caring so much about my lungs," Sydney rolled his eyes. "What about yours?" he asked.

He snorted. "I don't have asthma," Sebastian said. If he didn't stop that, he'd have something way worse than asthma.

"You're not gonna get asthma," Sydney replied in distress. "They're called cancer sticks for a reason, dick."

Sebastian refused to get up even when Sydney tried to pull him up to his feet. In fact, Sebastian bit him. The disgusting bastard. Sydney was sure that Sebastian didn't bother cleaning his teeth after he threw up stomach acid in the morning. He'd been refusing to eat a single piece of toast even if his mom forced it on him. Instead, all he did was drink caramel mochas at six in the morning. Obviously because all that sugar, caffeine and dairy was not killer on his stomach.

"Hey, you're the one that keeps complaining about feeling like crap all the time," Dave decided to say, his voice was as smooth as honey. "I'm sure that that's not helping you, you know. You should at least cut down on that shit."

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Sebastian looked up at Dave, Blaine and Kurt, who still stood there speechless.

"Did you just notice that we came to make sure you're okay?" Kurt asked. Sydney was sure Sebastian was so out of it.

"Whatever," Sebastian said that in a way that made you think that there was something wrong. "What do you care?"

Blaine sat beside him, placing a hand on Sebastian's knee. "Hey," his voice was so soft. "What's wrong?"

Sebastian looked over at Blaine with big soft green eyes. He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. He looked absolutely shattered. He placed a hand on his chest. "I don't feel good," he said. He sounded terrified, like he believed there was something wrong with him. "I throw up every morning. I feel like my head is gonna split every morning."

"I'm sure drinking that much alcohol in a relatively short period of time does that for you," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"No," Sebastian shook his head, placing his hand on his stomach. "I think that something is really wrong with me."

Sydney's face just crumbled, as he crouched on his feet. First, tonight, he did something that he'd wanted to do for a very long time: drag his stupid ass twin back to his flat, and now, he was doing another thing he wanted to do for a very long time: talk about how Sebastian was in fucking denial for ages now. "Is this about Colton?"

He expected Sebastian's reaction: pure unadulterated rage. "What do you mean if it's about _Colton?"_

"That's his name?" Dave looked like he just connected two and two together. "The bad boyfriend?"

Sydney nodded his head, but Sebastian stayed silent. His lips were pursed. He wasn't talking about Colton right now.

"You knew that you're looking at the nicest person in the world?" Sydney asked Dave, Kurt and Blaine, who just stared at him like he was a second away from being admitted into an asylum. Sydney smiled weakly, as he rubbed Sebastian's back. "No, seriously, he would probably throw himself in front of a truck for a stranger, but now, he's just…" he closed his eyes.

"I'm just _what?"_ Sebastian replied acerbically, proving Sydney's point. "You think I'm worth less now that I'm not nice?"

"What does that even mean?" Kurt asked, and Sebastian just huffed at him, and rolled his eyes as if to say _typical_.

"Ha. You're only nice to people that are nice back to you," Sebastian analysed. He was shaking and he was slurring less, but thinking less too. "Even if I try to be nice, you don't care because I was _so mean _before… you ain't ever gonna see me more than that guy that wants to steal your boyfriend. Why the hell should I care about what you have to say?"

Right now, he looked about as much of a threat as a wounded dog. He was trying to bite, but it only made him look more vulnerable. His hands were shaking, and he could barely hold his cigarette. Blaine reached over and slowly tried to hug him, and Sebastian just collapsed into Blaine's arms. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked like he was blinking away tears. "You aren't better, Blaine. You didn't even know I existed before I became like this," Sebastian said softly, snorting. This was the first time Sydney knew about this. "Thurston show choir since I was fucking thirteen. We shared the same kickboxing class for a year. I came to all your shows since you were in Dalton Ele-fucking-mentary. Did you even know?"

Blaine looked over at Sebastian and he was visibly stunned. "I'm sorry, Seb," he said. "I don't remember."

"My name is Sebastian, okay? Sebastian fucking Smythe," he huffed. He hated every fucking nickname, but he really didn't like the sound of Seb. He told Sydney once that it sounded like some faceless college kid that worked at McDonald's. He said that all he could imagine was a broken toolbox and grey sweatpants with stains on them. It did nothing for his self-esteem. His name was _refined_. His fucking name meant venerable. Of course, when he heard that the first time, he thought it said _venereal_. "And of course, you don't remember. Why would you?"

"Hey," Dave sat down beside him now, and Kurt was sat leg-crossed behind him. "It's okay."

Sebastian pressed his head against Dave's shoulder, looking so sad that it broke Sydney's heart. He was so engrossed in what was happening he didn't really feel his legs aching that badly from standing up for the better part of the night.

"I don't feel like myself," he said softly. "I don't know how to deal with all these feelings, alright? And I don't want anyone else's bullshit on top of me… I-I don't feel so good," he said, placing his hand on his flat, freckled stomach.

Kurt reached over to place a hand on Sebastian's arm. "How much did you drink?" he asked.

Sebastian just shrugged. "I don't remember," he said, looking at Kurt with a soft expression. He didn't make fun of how Kurt looked like—well, even if he did, he was in no position to. "I don't hate you, princess. Why… why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, Sebastian," Kurt replied, squeezing Sebastian's arm. "I thought you hated me."

Sebastian laughed and it was the most vacant, painful laughter that he'd ever heard in his life. Then the tears came rushing down his cheeks, and soft sobs erupted from his throat. "I don't hate nobody, alright?" he said defensively, his breaths becoming short and sharp. Sydney suddenly wondered if Sebastian was taking his medication because it didn't look like he was right now. "I didn't even hate the guy that… that…" his face turned extremely vacant. He suddenly turned silent.

"That _what?"_ Blaine was slowly stroking Sebastian's knee, as if he was afraid Sebastian was going to do something stupid.

"The guy that-that…assaulted me," Sebastian's voice was extremely slurred that it took Sydney a minute to realise that Sebastian was talking about sexual assault. Did Colton sexually assault Sebastian? Sebastian zipped up Sydney's jacket and wrapped his arms around himself. He buried his head into Dave's shoulder, looking like a little kid. _"Hmm..."_

Kurt slowly ran his hand through Sebastian's hair, and Sebastian lazily looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what I do I mean?" Sebastian laughed. "Would you be nice if you knew? I don't want you to be nice if it's just because you feel so sorry for me. If you don't like me, it's… it's okay. I just don't fucking understand because it ain't like that Mexican princess, the Jewish punk reject and the bear cub over there were exactly nice people… and I try but I'm so fucking fake, huh?" he looked up at Dave with a soft expression. He overheard their conversation too.

It made Sydney feel sick. "This is my personality," Sebastian sounded out. "I can't do nothing about it."

"Yeah, I know," Dave said in a quiet voice. Sebastian's voice was probably loud enough to wake up the whole apartment.

"No, you don't," Sebastian replied, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Nobody does. Nobody cares."

Helping him up to his bed was a pretty daunting task. Sebastian kept collapsing at the couch, and Sydney had to help him up. But because Sebastian had gotten so light, it wasn't so hard to carry his drowsy body to Sebastian's room. Sebastian was already snoring by the time his head hit the pillow and Sydney pulled the dark green duvet over him. Sebastian's room looked like a hurricane just hit it. There were old jeans, size 2XL sweaters, and old shoes that had their soles peeled off.

Sebastian had his work scheduled printed and pasted to the wall, along with a white board that planned his whole week. Tomorrow was a math exam and a five-hour shift. Sydney was surprised that this clocked-out Sebastian actually woke up the next morning, hang-over as hell and still went to school _and_ his job like nothing was wrong! What the fuck?

"This is Sebastian's room?" Kurt looked grossed out. Sydney nodded his head. "It's disgusting."

"I can't blame him," Dave looked at his whiteboard, looking guilty when he got to _Tutor Dave_ at the pile of a million things to do. "I didn't know that he was this damn busy. Where does he get the time to get trashed?"

"He doesn't sleep," Sydney replied, grabbing Sebastian's phone. The background was an old picture of short, fat Sebastian accepting a certificate for being the smartest and most active student in Thurston. He had the biggest most genuine smile on his face. His pink-peach eyeshadow glowed under the florescent light. His ears pierced with black studs. Even with no cheeks and a stomach that bulged beyond his pants, he looked better than he did at his best pictures now.

Looking at Sebastian now, they honestly didn't look like the same person. He hadn't seen Sebastian smile like that since before the early days with Colton. The more their relationship worsened, the more cynical and makeup-less Sebastian was. At the end of the relationship, it was like a weird backwards transformation took place.

Sydney turned off Sebastian's alarm and tossed the phone to Kurt, who caught it. "Recognise him?"

When Kurt looked at the iPhone photo, he didn't even recognise it. "Is _this_ his old boyfriend?" Kurt was taken away. "I didn't think that he liked that type… but if he had a bad relationship with him, I can understand why he doesn't like me."

"That is Sebastian," replied Sydney and Kurt's eyes widened. He kept darting his eyes from that excited thirteen-year-old kid to his sixteen-year-old tired, drunk brother that looked like he had the life sucked out of him. "He was thirteen."

"Are you serious?" Kurt stared at the photo. "His shoes are too feminine for Rachel.. and her room is pink!"

"That is so not like him," Dave was staring agape. It disturbed Sydney that Dave looked like he was checking him out.

"Not really… but you really don't know him, okay?" Sydney nodded his head. "Sebastian might come off as an asshole, but he isn't on the inside, you know? He's really nice. Even when he was his nicest, he didn't say stuff in a nice way. It's just the way that he talks. He doesn't deserve to be so miserable just because people read him wrong."

"I guess," Dave rubbed his neck. He smiled sheepishly at Sydney. "I shouldn't be the one talking anyone."

Blaine sat at the edge of Sebastian's bed, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you guys going to go?" he asked softly. "I… I don't feel right heading back home."

"I don't know," Dave replied. He looked at Sebastian pitifully. "I… well, I guess I'm staying. Kurt? You're staying too?" in turn, Kurt looked reluctant but nodded his head. He didn't want to be the only one that said no.

"You can sleep in my room," Sydney offered, crossing his thin arms over his chest. "I have a pretty big bed."

Sydney just listened to Sebastian's snores for a second. He looked exhausted. How did this happen anyway?

After Kurt, Blaine and Dave left text messages mentioning they weren't coming home tonight, Sydney wondered what to say. It was some holiday tomorrow that Dalton didn't let their students out on but virtually everyone else did. Sebastian was going to be pissed that nobody woke him up to take his math test that was like a whole percent of his fucking grade.

Sebastian had the walls painted when he converted from this obsessed-with-his-appearance guy to fake-liking lacrosse. Sydney knew it was fake because Sebastian ditched practice at least once a month. But Sebastian loved putting make-up on his face. He'd do it for hours on end every fucking day. Sydney was sure that Sebastian still fantasised about it. Under all his porn magazines were his fresh copies of _Cosmogirl, Vogue_ and _Seventeen_. Sebastian used to bookmark his favourite looks and spent all the money he heard from his jobs on jeans that he embroidered beautiful flowers onto. Sebastian's embroidery skills were so good that Darla had been begging Sydney to convince Sebastian to make her a pretty denim skirt with roses.

Thirteen-year-old Sebastian's favourite jeans were these ripped ones where he stitched white roses from the pocket down to the rip in his knee. He then stitched up some flatted white flowers at the hem. He used to wear them with silver eyeliner.

It constantly weirded Sydney out that when Sebastian was fat and short, he used to take care of his appearance more now that he was conventionally attractive. He was tall, thin and had abs from the lacrosse that he hated but he didn't look half as good as he did before. He carried off this air of fake arrogance that made Sydney feel sad for him. Because if you were really that confident in how you looked like, you'd wear what made you feel good. Even if it was the stuff that everyone else would make fun of. And even though Sebastian used to be so outrageously gay-looking and came home with broken teeth and a fractured arm, he still was okay as long as he could still use his highlighter to accentuate his features.

Sebastian was so stereotypically gay on the inside and he'd been depriving himself for ages on the account that he wanted to come off as this effortless straight-looking gay guy that didn't used to alter everything he bought until it was unique. Thirteen-year-old Sebastian had more character and passion than the edited cocky version ever fucking would.

Sydney fell asleep at like six in the morning. He woke up only a few hours after when he heard Sebastian throwing up.

He wandered to the bathroom where he saw red-eyed Sebastian flushing the toilet. He had just finished showering because he had a towel on, and his hair was wet and smelled like his Body Shop White Musk shampoo. All Sydney could zero in on were the little tiny bird tattoos that was on Sebastian's shoulder blade. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, his hands were visibly shaking, and he looked pretty tired. "How dare you fucking turn off my alarm clock?" he spat out to Sydney.

"Are you serious about driving like _that?"_ Sydney asked furiously. "You're going to end up killing yourself."

Sebastian snorted, as if it was a big fat joke. "I've been doing that for a year," he paused. "It was my birthday last week, right? I've been doing this for _two_ years. Why do you suddenly fucking care?" he said, rolling his eyes.

For their birthday, Sydney didn't even see him for a fucking minute. They made plans that Sebastian ditched and by the time that he came home a few days later, they'd already eaten his cake. But then he woke him up at three in the morning with cupcakes and said that he was sorry about what happened and that he didn't feel good. Sebastian said that all the time now. It infuriated Sydney. But it was weird seeing two sides of Sebastian's personality.

It was like nicer Sebastian was fighting with the old bitter one, you know?

"Everyone is sick of watching you do this," Sydney said hotly. "What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?"

Sebastian's voice was calm. "I don't know why I'm like this," he said. "I'm sorry." Was that what he wanted to hear?

Sydney looked over at Sebastian's drawn-out face. He looked older than he was. "Mom and dad are gonna be pissed when they wake up," Sydney said. He remembered Jean cursing when Sydney told him to head back home about how Sebastian was damned if he was going to even attempt doing this to himself again. "Hey, your friends stayed here. Um…. Dave, Kurt and Blaine are staying in my room. They were freaked out about what happened. What did that guy do in the bar?"

Sebastian looked like he vaguely remembered. "What is Bella, Edward and the bear cub doing in your bed?"

"They wanna make sure you're okay," Sydney felt like he didn't know anything about his twin. But he always wanted Sebastian could sober up too. He didn't even know that his parents hated each other. He didn't know that Sydney spent his childhood in hospital for something that wasn't asthma. "But can you please stop being such an asshole? It's like you flip between trying to be nice and trying to be an ass. It's like two parts of your personality are like fighting with each other."

Sebastian scoffed. "That's because they _are_, princess," he didn't sound like himself. It was so weird.

"You said you're going to be nice, right?" Sydney asked. "So thank them for being there and try to act human."

He looked away from Sydney, the expression on his face unreadable. "Okay," he didn't sound great.

"Sebastian?" he looked really sick, but Sydney pushed it away. Of course, he looked sick. He just threw up stomach acid because he didn't eat some junk from Pizza Hut on the way back from the bar. He barely slept. Who would look good under these circumstances? But Sebastian was acting uncharacteristically compliant. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," replied Sebastian, sounding super quiet for a guy that spent all night in a little cloth he tried to pass off as shorts.

"Do you wanna eat breakfast?" Sydney asked, knowing that Sebastian would hate breakfast after he just threw up, but he just nodded his head. It was eerie how silent he just became. Sebastian was the loudest fucking person in the world. He stood up, his towel still around his hips as he made his way out of the bedroom. "Sebastian?" his voice was soft.

"Hmm?" Sebastian walked out of the bathroom and Sydney followed him into his bedroom. "What do you want?"

Sydney didn't say anything. In Sebastian's room, he threw off his towel and then put on the biggest white hoodie he'd ever seen followed by a pair of old black sweatpants that he had from the floor. He didn't look great and the old thirteen-year-old Sebastian would never let him walk out of the room looking like that. He hadn't been thinking about how Sebastian changed in years, but now that he was, the change was so drastic and apparent that it was just plain painful to watch.

"Are you okay?" Sydney asked, looking at him apprehensively. Sebastian's behaviour was so weird these days.

"Didn't you already ask me this?" asked Sebastian but he didn't sound convincing_. "I'm fine,"_ he walked out of the room.

Sydney felt weird following his brother around like he was a fucking puppy, but less weirded out when he saw Kurt, Blaine and Dave sitting around the table. Sydney was sure they couldn't sleep so great in a room full of nebulisers and weight gain supplements that he stashed in his dresser. He drank so much Pediasure that he could taste it in his fucking sleep. He drank _six_ a day on top of food just to maintain his weight. His parents bought some of the newer flavours all the time because if he had another chocolate Pediasure, he would cry. But Sydney still drank it. You know, when your parents could barely pay the pills and they still bought you nutritional supplements, you'd still choke them down even if you fucking hated them.

There was a pretty generous breakfast spread. They had mountains of toast, butter, peanut butter and jelly. There were hard-boiled eggs already peeled to the side, along with some cheap croissants that tasted like a dirty secret.

Kurt had two hard-boiled eggs on his plate. "Thank you for having us, Mrs Smythe," he said.

"The pleasure is all mine," his mom said in this fake smile. Sebastian was like the blunter version of his mom. Inside, Sydney was sure that his mom was wishing that she could just kick them out and she was pissed at Sydney for not telling her that they stayed the night. But what was he going to tell her? That Sebastian's friends didn't feel okay about leaving him?

If she knew the whole story, she'd huff and tell him that they were okay with leaving him before.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" Sebastian said, sounding half-annoyed and half-sleepy. He pulled down his hoodie, which was long on him. The white looked good on him today. Usually, it washed him out. "I have a test."

"You're going to drive to your school, the one that's half an hour away, with an hour's worth of sleep and hungover?" Jean asked. "Are you asking for a fucking death wish?" he was so pissed he didn't care that there were _guests_ there.

"Why does it matter? I've been doing this for years," Sebastian huffed. "I know what I'm doing. I'm not your baby."

Sebastian looked grossed out by the toast on his plate. Nothing new.

"We're getting a divorce," his dad said, and Sydney's heart literally just stopped. Did his dad literally just say that? In front of Sebastian's kind of but not really friends? At like seven in the morning? His mom looked so shocked. Sydney was numb.

Sebastian just dropped his mug. Glass shattered everywhere.

"You said you're not a baby, right?" Jean said. Nathalie looked like she wanted to yell at him, because she hated how his dad treated Sebastian…you know, like he wasn't fragile on the inside. "You and your mother have been wanting to get a divorce for three years. She didn't want to tell you because she doesn't want to hurt your feelings."

Sebastian looked like he'd just been slapped. "What?" he was relatively calm. It spooked Sydney. "Are you serious?"

"How _DARE_ you tell him that in front of _HIS FRIENDS?"_ Nathalie shrieked. "At seven in the morning? Are you crazy?"

"Do you honestly think that they're his friends?" Jean asked hotly, and Nathalie just looked away, not meeting Dave's eyes who was staring straight at her. "It's never going to be the right time for you anyway, right? When did you want to tell him? When you're already married to George? It's been three fucking years, Nat!"

"You're dating someone?" Sebastian's voice was so soft that Sydney could barely hear him.

What surprised Sydney was Sebastian didn't sound angry. He sounded disappointed. He looked so sad. But at least he didn't care about his stupid math test anymore, right? Sebastian met Dave's eyes, and then bit down his lower lip.

It must be so embarrassing for him to hear this news with people that he didn't even really like. Except maybe Dave.

"We'll talk about this later," his mom reached over to stroke Sebastian's hair. Usually, he'd tell her to fuck off.

"Later when?" Sebastian asked, looking at her with a confused expression. "Three years? _You didn't tell me?" _

The rest of the room was silent. Sydney wondered how much awkward it could get, you know?

If Sebastian had an appetite before, it just died away. He went to clean off the coffee he dropped off the floor and cleared the mug pieces to throw away. Kurt was slowly chewing through his eggs. Blaine was eating the same piece of buttered toast and Dave looked like he was drinking coffee just not to be rude.

Sebastian made himself another cup. He bit off exactly two mouthfuls of toast, and then had some acetaminophen with his coffee.

Sydney ate a lot, but not because he was hungry as much as the fact that he had to. He was barely maintaining his weight. Once, he had a stomach flu for about two days and lost five pounds that took a month to put back on. If he ever needed a lung transplant, they were never going to give it to him unless he put on another ten pounds.

His mom was nibbling on her toast. His dad was standing by the counter, brewing a whole pot of coffee for himself.

Ten minutes passed. Jean was pouring coffee for himself. His dad had been on a diet for the last month. All he'd done thus far was put on weight, because of the stress of having two jobs and clamoring for a third. Sydney was pretty sad that their parents were splitting, but his dad would finally be able to breathe, you know? He wouldn't have to have so many fucking jobs just so he could pay a couple of bills and give Sebastian his regular allowance and his make-up allowance (yeah, he still did that). Sebastian used to save all his make-up money so that he could buy something halfway decent after three months.

His mom used to come back home with discounted magazines and they used to sit together and read them. Sydney and his dad never felt bad. They'd go to the park and play sports together. They didn't play anything very vigorous, and spent most of the time at the park, feeding ducks. That was the best time of Sydney's life. When he'd come back home, Sebastian would be sat leg-crossed on the carpet with his mom, watching Star Wars together with her for the third time that month.

They'd already talked to Sydney and decided that if they were going to divorce, Sydney was going to live with his dad. That was what he wanted anyway. But as Sebastian got meaner and more distant, he felt bad that his mom was gonna be 'stuck' with him.

He hated that he thought about Sebastian like that. Like this was a guy that people had to 'deal with' instead of unconditionally love.

After his parents left, it was just him, Sebastian and the three other gay guys that he knew. There was the guy that he had a crush on, the guy that almost killed himself and the guy that dressed like he was going to go to a gay parade all the time. Sydney wanted to offer them a shower, or something, and he wondered if they were going to ask to go now. How were they supposed to fix this relationship anyway? Were they going to talk about the fact that they were going to divorce?

"Um… uh, so, are you going to do anything today?" Sydney asked, trying to break the tension.

"Sure," Blaine answered but he looked like he didn't have any plans beside making sure Sebastian didn't end up going to the ER at the end of the night. He looked particularly uncomfortable. "Um…we made a Lima Bean date? I think?"

The thing was it was painful for them to be there with Sebastian. But they were too nice to just leave.

Sebastian stopped asking them why they were there right now. Normally, he would've told them all off for what happened, but he just stared at them vacantly. He looked so unlike himself that it kind of made Sydney shudder. "Princess Hummel, how's the application process to that New York art school you wanted to go?" he asked.

"How did you know about that?" Kurt eyed him shadily. Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. "Is nothing private to you?"

"You're the one that followed me back home, slept in my twin's fucking bedroom and listened to my dad tell me that my parents are getting a divorce," Sebastian pointed out. Kurt just went as red as possible and didn't meet his eyes. "You're telling me the fact that you want to go to a pretty little art school in New York is a fucking secret? Are you serious?"

"Point taken," Kurt said. Sydney wasn't sure if they should talk about the divorce right now. "It's horrible."

"Uh huh," Sebastian replied, sipping his coffee. "You didn't know if they'd accept tiara collecting in the application?"

"I don't know how to write it," Kurt mumbled. "Well, I _do_ know how to write it but…"

"I can look at it for you, Gay Face," Sebastian mocked, but this was uncharacteristically nice of him.

"You look over it for me?" Kurt looked at him suspiciously. "What for?"

Sebastian just rolled his eyes. "Because I've had more jobs than anyone else you know? I can write a CV and cover letter with my eyes closed? I applied for my scholarship for Dalton and I got it?' he eyed him. "I'm doing this as a friend."

"Are we friends?" Kurt asked, which was the million-dollar question right now.

"Do you want to be friends with me?" Sebastian answered back with the billion-dollar question. Kurt slowly nodded his head, and then Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat. "You mean it? You're going to forget about what happened?"

"He forgot about me threatening to kill him," Dave told Sebastian, which made Sydney shudder. "We wanna be okay. It's bad enough that people are mean to gay guys like us without us hating each other, you know?" he looked more comfortable with his sexuality than Sebastian described to Sydney before. That was probably a good thing.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, nodding his head. "Plus, I miss us texting each other until three in the morning."

Sebastian smiled a little bit. Sydney could guess most of what he wrote was not meant to be texts between friends anyway. He knew that his brother came on hard when he wanted someone.

Dave looked over at Kurt and Blaine. "Since we're all friends," he said the words a tensely, "Are you gonna tell him?"

"Tell me _what?"_ Sebastian looked at them with a wide-eyed expression. Sydney felt the same way. More bad news?

"Kurt and I are getting married after graduation," Blaine said. Sebastian paled. "We both want to go to NYADA so…"

"Married?" Sebastian reiterated, and Sydney couldn't imagine what Sebastian felt like right then. He looked stunned. Dave looked like he didn't want to think about it. Sydney remembered that Dave liked Kurt, and Sebastian liked Blaine, so this was probably hard-hitting news. "You wanna get married at _EIGHTEEN? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS_? I thought _I_ was the one that spent his fucking nights getting plastered. Even I couldn't come up with a dumber idea than that."

_"I KNOW!"_ Dave replied. "I said the same thing when they broke the news to me last night. I was fucking livid."

"Hey, look, I know we're young," Blaine said, as if that made it okay. Sydney didn't know what the hell was going on. His mind was swinging: divorce, marriage, divorce, marriage. "But it's just that… you know, we figured that we don't actually want anyone. We've been together for a while now. We're going to be living together, same college, you know? It just felt right for us to…"

"And we're in love," Kurt tried to say, and it made Sebastian look like he wanted to vomit. "Why wait?"

"Because a marriage contract isn't the fucking same as moving into an apartment together?" Sebastian offered, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to fucking throw away your life if you get hitched on the basis that you're _so much in fucking love?_"

"You… you just want Blaine for yourself," Kurt said, as if that was his default argument. "You're just…jealous!"

Sebastian laughed and it kind of echoed through the room. He looked like he found that actually funny. "Good one, princess," he rolled his eyes. "Because my life's fucking dream is to get tied to a fucking lifelong marriage contract before I'm legal enough to get drunk. I am just falling over with jealousy over here. If you think it's stressful getting an application done, _you're_ going to fucking fall apart trying to plan a stupid fucking wedding a month after you graduate."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Legal enough to drink?" he asked. "I'm not getting life-shattering advice from an alcoholic."

Sebastian just shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "But you ain't crying on my shoulder when shit hits the fan."


	8. Sebastian and Kurt at an Impasse

_for those that are not aware, i've accidentally uploaded chapter 7 before chapter 6, so just for those to be aware that have read #7 before 6. i have corrected this issue now, and hopefully, i don't do another one again. to be honest, it's been a little difficult to get into the spirit of this fanfiction..._

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Eight: Sebastian and Kurt at an Impasse

* * *

"What is wrong with you?" Hunter Clarington asked as Sebastian was, you know, tidying up the shelves.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked. He was stood there wearing his work uniform, which was looking loose on him.

The manager berated Hunter for not giving him 'enough lunch breaks' because he didn't look good. Sebastian heard Hunter cursing all day: like hell he didn't give him enough lunch breaks! To Hunter, it probably looked like Sebastian lived on 'Starbeetus'. "What's your problem with me, Clarington? You've been bitching at me all day."

"You got me Starbucks," Hunter pointed towards the cup on the counter. "I counted the money in the cashier, and you didn't swipe any of it for your little trash coffee pick-me-up. What is it for? _A bribe?"_ he eyed Sebastian wearily.

"You looked tired, okay?" Sebastian shook his head. "Look, I bought it with my own money, dickwad."

Hunter looked like he didn't even consider that possibility "You bought me coffee with _your_ money?" he asked. Like hell. Sebastian wouldn't usually pay for his own coffee with his own money. "As in you fucking paid for it? You didn't suck off the barista or anything and he decided to get you a free coffee by any chance?"

Sebastian just shook his head, as he slowly organised stacks of folded lavender-coloured shorts on top of each other.

"Fucking Hell, Clarington. I was gone for two fucking minutes," Sebastian argued. He was sure that no matter how good his mouth was, he couldn't make anyone come that fast but he felt a little flattered that Hunter thought he could… well, unless he'd never had a blowjob and didn't know how long one would take, you know? "A small half-caf caramel macchiato, skinny, only one pump of the sweet stuff and an extra shot? That's your order, right?"

Hunter looked over at the counter where the offending Starbucks cup was at. "How did _you_ know that?"

"You ordered it three days ago," Sebastian replied. "You know, through the phone, because you didn't want to leave me alone in the store longer than absolutely necessary? Are you done fucking interrogating me for no reason?"

Hunter looked around the shorts that Sebastian was putting up. "What do you care if I'm tired?" Hunter asked coldly.

Sebastian took a deep breath. "Let it go, asshole," he said. "It's a fucking caramel macchiato. Not a wedding ring."

Hunter didn't look like he was easing into it. "Why are you working? Do you have a deadly aneurysm or something?"

"Ha ha," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "No, I don't but thanks for caring so much about my physical wellbeing."

Throughout the rest of the shift, Hunter was on high alert every time Sebastian went out back to come in with more crates of stuff along with him. When a couple of bubbly teenagers that looked like they were jacked off on vanilla frappuccinos and bad mall food walked into the shop, he was in a good enough mood to help them out. Sebastian usually felt too pissed and angry at everyone to help, or he was way too damn self-conscious, but today, he felt so at ease with the fact that he was one of those cock-sucking princesses that liked to wear floral jackets with light chiffon scarves.

Sebastian was a little terrified. He had a reputation now. It wasn't like before when everyone knew him as that guy that wore pink jeans to school. No, he was now the guy that bitched at Kurt Hummel for just acting like a total chick.

But what was he going to get out of being like this, you know? He was miserable. Yes, everyone knew who he was, but he was legitimately miserable. Sebastian didn't know why this change came by, or why it was so quick or anything about it but he was sick of wondering. He was sick of wondering why he didn't feel so angry about everything. Maybe this was a good thing, you know? As Sebastian thought, he found a black dress for this chick that didn't look like the garbage bag that she had originally chosen. He found some discounted pantyhose, beige heels and a little black dress that helped amplify her non-existent curve instead of swallowing her whole (see in case, the trash bag dress she tried on first). Now, she could go out on a date with her boyfriend (yuck, heterosexuals) and feel like she _looked_ good. What a shocker.

With his newfound work ethic, Sebastian helped make five sales that day. He even sold the ugliest pair of pink pumps he'd ever seen because he finally found a chick that made them work. Hunter was staring at him like he'd morphed into an alien all day long. Especially when he'd told a chick that her winged liner scared him more than most vampire movies.

As Sebastian put the money in the till from their sales, he felt Hunter breathing down his neck.

"What are you doing?" Hunter's mouth was agape. "What the fuck?"

"What is wrong with you?" Sebastian finally couldn't take it no more. "I'm fucking working. What are _you_ doing?"

Hunter was speechless, but at least, he didn't act like he saw Sebastian in a new light since discovering that his face was gayer than it looked. That gave Sebastian a little bit of comfort because he didn't want to be put in the same damn trope as Kurt fucking Hummel, you know? He still liked to watch hockey games when he was eating crazy amounts of cheese fries, and he still liked to go lift some weights at night even if he wasn't one-hundred-percent into lacrosse for the past few months. Hell, Sebastian also went fishing too with his dad, the one activity that Sydney hated more than anything.

"Since when did you know how to do that?" Hunter asked attentively. "I thought you hated guys that were like _that_."

"None of your business," Sebastian replied. "Are you done conducting your day-long investigation or can I take a break?"

Hunter grabbed his wallet out, and then offered Sebastian a few bucks. "Whatever," he said. "Here, you lousy rat."

"I got my own damn money, asshole," Sebastian pushed his hand away, and then walked out. Hunter stared at him like he was dying or something, and as Sebastian walked out, he didn't feel good. Like there was something wrong with him.

To be honest, he'd been having that feeling for ages now, you know? Because even though he wanted to be pissed or angry, he felt so tired and sleepy all the time that he didn't feel like he could be too snarky. He felt like each of his limbs weighed a hundred pounds. Fine. He accepted that maybe his recent personality change (that he noticed too) wasn't a big deal. But Sebastian kept telling people that he didn't feel good, but they brushed it off. It was because he smoked, because he didn't eat right, or because he drank so much fucking booze at three in the morning. But deep inside, Sebastian knew there was something big wrong with him. Sydney had been trying to tell him that it was because he stopped taking that stupid Zoloft months back and that he was just being depressed. His parents were talking to each other about how they thought that he had an eating disorder because he threw up every morning even if he wasn't drinking that night.

He wasn't depressed, you know? At least… he didn't feel this way because he was depressed. And Sebastian had not had one single fucking thought about wanting to lose weight. Even as a kid, he didn't dress like he was ashamed of his body.

His appetite was dying away by the hour. He always felt full and Sebastian didn't want to eat anything these days.

At the food court, he found Kurt Hummel, Jeff Sterling and Trent Dixon sitting there. Kurt and Trent were eating some oversized salad that was covered in mounds of cheese and dressing and Jeff was eating this huge slice of pepperoni pizza that was the size of his head. Sebastian's stomach growled, but then a wave of nausea hit him. He looked around the food court, and then settled on buying his favourite lunch: an oversized slice of vanilla cheesecake, along with an espresso shot.

Sebastian walked with his cake towards table. He sat down beside Jeff, Trent and Kurt, who nodded to him.

"Hey," Trent even looked excited to see him. "Nice clothes," he was smirking a little at him.

"You think you can wear it better?" Sebastian challenged. He looked like someone just threw up cotton candy all over him.

Trent just laughed. "Yeah," he said, smirking a little. "I mean…I _am_ pretty gorgeous." Sebastian snorted.

"Your momma likes to talk about how pretty you are?" Sebastian mocked. Trent just went red in the face. "Ha."

"I can't believe I'm talking to you in the mall like this," Trent admitted, sounding excited about this development. "I'm so glad that you're not the same fucking slave driver you were when you came into Dalton. God, you were such an asshole…like not only just a month back. I don't know what happened, but I'm really glad for it."

"Yeah, a little miracle," Sebastian rolled his eyes. He tried to ignore that uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, the one that was trying to tell him that something was seriously wrong here. "But I wasn't that bad."

"Are you kidding?" Jeff shook his head, sipping his Coke. "You were a fucking crook. I honestly thought that something bad happened when you were a kid and that was why you turned into such a Grade A douchebag. It's the only way I could've talked to you without losing it, man… I mean…I'm glad nothing happened, of course."

Something _did_ happen to Sebastian. How did he get to the fucking conclusion that nothing happened to begin with?

"Because I'm better, nothing happened?" Sebastian asked, and Jeff went white. "Trust me. There are worse people."

"You nearly blinded Blaine," Kurt reminded him, glaring at him. "How much worse can you get?"

Sebastian's lip twitched. "Listen here, princess. I'm clearing this up _now_... I didn't mean to hurt Blaine, Hummel," he said. He felt so crappy thinking about it. He felt like that was one of the worst days of his life… and he didn't even do it on purpose, you know? "And I already apologised for it, okay? I already did. It was just a prank that got out of hand and I'm sick and tired of saying that I'm fucking sorry for what happened. Look, I called Blaine straight after to beg for his fucking forgiveness. And _he_ forgave me."

Kurt looked at him as if he didn't know whether to believe him or not. "What if Blaine lost an eye?"

"What if Dave died because you didn't answer his fucking texts?" Sebastian spat out, not wanting to and not even meaning to. But he had a point. "And nobody's fucking blaming you for that. But he called you. He didn't call me. He called you."

Kurt went white. "You purposefully hit Blaine with a slushie," he said. "I ignored a couple of calls_. _It's not the same!"

Sebastian looked over at a quiet Trent and Jeff. "Fine," he said. "But just so you know, maybe I was the one that hit him with the slushie, but all your Dalton friends didn't do anything to stop me. Because nobody fucking knew what was going to happen."

Before Kurt could reply, he paused. "Are you _crying?"_ he asked. "Did I upset you?"

"What the hell do you think?" Sebastian's voice was unchanged, but he could feel hot tears spilling down his eyes. He was embarrassed. He hadn't cried in front of actual people since he was a kid. "How would you like it if nobody believes you? No matter how many fucking times you beg and apologise, it's not good enough? What the hell do you want me to do? You don't fucking believe me. That's not _my_ problem. It's yours," his voice was becoming unsteady.

They didn't talk about it, you know? They didn't talk about the fact that he was crying.

_People aren't used to you blubbering like a baby_, he told himself. But it didn't make him feel good either. He felt so damn alone. What? Next to having to fucking beg for forgiveness, he had to expect to be treated like dirt by people that he had wronged? Come on. When was this going to end? Sebastian was sick of all these bad relationships that he had.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked slowly, as if he was approaching a dangerous sabretooth tiger instead of a new 'friend.'

"Yeah," Sebastian replied, not even meeting Kurt's eye. This was so damn humiliating. "I'm fine."

He felt a little better when Jeff reached to hold his hand for a second and squeeze it. "We believe you," he said.

"Whatever," Sebastian was not about to thank them. They were supposed to be nice people. They were supposed to believe him after the first fifty fucking times he apologised without the waterworks. Because now, it felt like no matter how truthful and honest he was, he was never going to be anyone's friend for real. And that made him feel like he was a kid all over again.

No wonder he never did this shit in public. Nobody was helpful. Sebastian was just embarrassed. After a few streaks of tears, his whole face was pale and dry. And worst of all, Sebastian now felt even more nauseous from the smell of the greasy pepperoni and the heavy salad dressing. His cheesecake looked innocuous, but his espresso shot made him gag when he bought it too close to his face. Sebastian spooned a little corner from his cheesecake and took a mouthful. It tasted like he was eating solid cream cheese with a little sugar mixed in. The vanilla taste was so damn strong. It felt like he was eating lumps of concrete and cream cheese. He was so fucking turned off.

"Hey…um… when are you going to get off?" Jeff asked. The Warblers were trying too. They got along most days, and Sebastian was kind of surprised that they didn't hate him most days. But now, he was just pissed off. "We can go watch a movie or something."

Sebastian looked at his watch. He had to tutor Dave tonight. He'd already cancelled on him, telling him he didn't feel good.

_You never feel good_, Dave answered him back. _Do you really not feel good when you say that, or do you just wanna get rid of me?_

Sebastian felt like a fucking liar every time he said it. It was the truest thing that he'd ever said, by the way. He felt like he'd been run over by the bus all the time. Even when he wasn't nauseous, he had zero interest in food. He wasn't sleeping as much, even though he didn't drink in the last few days at all. He was still throwing up in the morning and his headache was killing him, but it felt like every time he told someone he didn't feel great, they didn't take him seriously. He was sure his mom didn't even believe he was still throwing up in the morning.

"I guess. Whatever," Sebastian replied, shrugging. He didn't know what to say, but he was biting his lip. "At five."

"That's great," Jeff said, nodding his head. He looked like a bobble head. His bag next to him smelled like Lush just exploded. It was giving Sebastian a crazy headache. But what was he going to say? "You can meet us at the cinema after."

"Yeah," Trent was looking at Kurt from across the table, grinning manically. "When are you going to get married again?"

Sebastian scoffed, and Kurt ignored him. Sebastian still thought that it was absolutely fucking ridiculous that this guy was getting married straight after graduation. He was also still waiting for Kurt to send him his stupid application, but he didn't say anything about it. "Oh, I was thinking that maybe about a month after we graduate," Kurt perkily replied.

"I _love_ summer weddings," Trent replied, starry-eyed. Sebastian wanted to gag. He also didn't want to think about his mom trying to talk to him about marrying some guy named George that he never even fucking met. He'd been avoiding talking to his parents, and his parents were fighting all the time, you know? About how it was his dad's fault that Sebastian knew in the first place. It was making him sick. Sydney stayed over at Darla's most nights. "Did you find a venue?"

"We're trying to," Kurt said, sighing deeply. "But it's so stressful. Everywhere that's good is already booked. And my dad and Carole are not helping me at all because they don't support my decision to marry Blaine so soon."

"Because they're not crazy," Sebastian mumbled. He forced himself to eat another spoonful, but his stomach rebelled.

"Are you sure you're not just jealous?" Kurt looked at him, and he wasn't asking him in that spiteful way that you'd ask someone that you hated but in that matter-of-a-fact way that you'd ask someone that you thought of as a friend. "It's perfectly natural, considering that you have been pining for Blaine for some time. But you have to respect my decision."

_I can't believe I'm wasting my fucking time like this_, he told himself. _These people aren't like me. They don't get me._

"I can't," Sebastian stabbed the strawberry on top of his cheesecake. "Look, this is the stupidest thing you'll ever do."

"Whatever. It's a good thing it's not _your_ decision, right? Are you going to try and fight about it every time I bring it up?" Kurt looked like he was trying to tolerate Sebastian's disinterest. Sebastian was not one of those gay guys that liked to think about planning a wedding and spazzed out about it. To be honest, Sebastian was pretty sure he'd never get married and he couldn't imagine anyone legitimately going down on their knee for him, you know? But even if he did, he wouldn't want to do it at eighteen. Released from school and into a fucking commitment prison. Gross.

"Yeah, because I fucking give a shit, okay?" Sebastian snapped back. Kurt looked surprised but stayed quiet.

What was so surprising that he cared? They were supposed to be friends, weren't they? Were you surprised when your friends told you that they didn't support your decision because it was going to the biggest fucking mistake in your life?

"Thank you, but it's my choice," Kurt repeated. "You're not my father, Sebastian and I don't need your opinions on what you think I should do with _my_ life." Sebastian wanted to scoff, because it looked like his parents didn't agree either.

_I just fucking cried in front of you, you stupid douchebag_, Sebastian thought to himself. He didn't care about how mean or sad he was. The way that Kurt treated him was no good, and Sebastian knew that much.

"Um…" Jeff was still eating his huge slice of pizza. Sebastian really tried not to gag, because it was so gross. He couldn't believe he ate something like that just a few days ago, because right now, it looked horrible. He could tell that Jeff also thought that Blaine and Kurt were way too young to be getting married. "I got extra jeans. Do you want some?"

Sebastian was interested. "What do they look like?" Jeff pulled out these grey white-washed jeans. "I'd rather kill myself."

Those grey white-washed jeans would wash Sebastian out like nothing. He didn't know who told Jeff that it was okay to wear that. He was going to look like a fucking ghost with pencil legs, just like Sebastian would. You needed an ass for the details in those jeans to even come out, something that Sebastian and Jeff didn't have because they were one of those tall, lanky guys that had zero definition. The only person he could think of that would look marginally good in that was Blaine. And even then, there was like a million other stuff that Blaine could wear that would look ten times better than that.

"They aren't that bad," Jeff said, looking at Sebastian seriously. "I think they look pretty interesting."

"Did you seriously pay money for that?" Sebastian asked, and Jeff just went red. Sebastian tried to imagine Jeff wearing those jeans, with his pale skin and platinum blonde hair. At least they'd never lose him a crowd, right? All they had to do was look for the overstretched marshmallow.

Kurt just shrugged. "Well, I think that they look decent," he replied. "But you know so much about fashion, don't you?"

The jibe didn't sit so well with Sebastian's stomach. He knew that Kurt probably saw some picture of his thirteen-year-old self around the house. There was the one on the mantlepiece where Sebastian was doughy-faced and young, in his mother's arms. They had matching pearl necklaces on, because at that time, Sebastian had no fucking concept of gender whatsoever. He just wanted to wear what his mom was wearing, and his mom never told him that he couldn't, you know?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sebastian knew exactly what it meant, but he wanted to hear it from Kurt.

"It's just that… for someone that supposedly hates all that frilly stuff, you seem to be so good at it," Kurt said.

Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to think about the fact that he just gave make-up advice to a chick with red hair just an hour ago. Why did he do that?

"And by saying that to me, princess, do you think you're inspiring me to go back to caking my face?" Sebastian asked.

Kurt looked a little thrown back by the reply. Sebastian knew that it was because he made him feel guilty. Kurt Hummel didn't like the thought that he made a gay guy feel like he couldn't be what he wanted to be. Sebastian tried to ignore the part of him that wanted to tell him that he never had his abusive ex-boyfriend throw his favourite powder out of the car and threaten him the next time he put some of that frou-frou stuff on. _I'm dating a guy, okay?_ Colton would say. _If I wanted to be kissing someone that liked to put that stuff on their face, I'd be dating a pretty fucking cheerleader instead of some stupid, ugly slob. _

"You have that thing?" Jeff asked, looking at him a little confused. "Like Kurt does? Like about shopping and stuff?"

Sebastian liked to go shopping with his mom. They'd try on clothes together. Then they'd buy discount fabric and make their own. Over time, their sloppy seconds were starting to look better than the original stuff they tried on. They hadn't done that in years and Sebastian wished he could swallow his pride long enough to do it again.

"Sydney showed me the picture," Kurt urged. Sebastian wanted to tell him to fuck off. "The one on your phone."

"Can I see?" Jeff looked eager. Trent stopped eating his salad. Good. Because the sound of him chewing made him sick.

Sebastian didn't know why he showed them. The picture of him was old, but when Jeff and Trent looked at it, they didn't even recognise him. He looked like Trent's fucking twin instead of Sydney's. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"That's _you?"_ Jeff mouthed; his eyes wide. Trent was transfixed by the picture. "It doesn't look like you."

"You look good," Trent added on, nodding his head in approval. "It doesn't look too much, you know. Even in pink."

"Thanks," Sebastian said bitterly, making it apparently that he didn't find their comment that helpful. "Are you done?"

Jeff totally stole his phone and was now looking through his photo gallery. Sebastian didn't find that a big issue, because the last few times he'd been taking photos religiously was when he'd been putting loads of make-up on and wanted to document certain looks. The most recent picture he took was at least three years old.

Jeff's eyes lit up with every picture that he saw. But then he went serious. "Uh… why don't you do this anymore?"

"Did some people tell you off?" Trent asked. "Because you know you shouldn't care about what other people think. I know that's weird telling you, because you tell Kurt off all the time, but I just… why else would you stop, you know?"

"It's none of your business," Sebastian wasn't going to divulge in his fucking history with them at lunch. "Look, it's personal."

_"Personal?"_ Kurt echoed, looking at him seriously. "Why does your personal issue have to reflect on me, Sebastian? Why do you feel the need to ridicule what I wear? Especially if you know first-hand how it feels like because you're 'like me'."

"Shut up," Sebastian hissed back. "You don't know what you're talking about." His hands were shaking under the table.

Kurt wouldn't fucking shut up. He had to challenge him. "Why don't I know what I'm talking about, huh?"

"I already fucking told you—it's personal," Sebastian was so angry and hurt. "You want me to respect the fact that you're getting married when you're a fucking baby, but you don't wanna respect that I got an issue with this for a legit reason?"

He wanted to mention that he was pissed that he just cried, and nobody cared about how he felt. Was this normal? Because Sebastian wasn't buying it.

"I'm not a baby just because I whine about things that matter," Kurt replied. "I know that's hard for you to understand."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at him. "Things that matter to _you_," he said. "Believe it or not, there are worse things than the fact that you feel offended that I choose not to cake my face with cheap drugstore makeup."

"Yes, your _personal_ issues," Kurt said, not believing a word he said. "Of course."

He didn't know what to say. He just stayed quiet for a while. Usually, this would be his cue to storm off and to tell him to go fuck himself and that he didn't want to be friends with him anyway and that would be the end of their 'friendship'. Right now, he just felt so sad on the inside as all the memories washed over him. He could remember Colton throwing tissue boxes at him and telling him to get rid of that crap on his face. He was so ashamed of the stuff that he loved. Even years after, he couldn't walk in public looking like that anymore without hearing Colton's words echo in his head. That he wasn't good enough. That he looked like a fucking joke. That nobody liked him. Was _that_ worth a little fucking liner?

By the time that he went back to work, Hunter was pissed that Sebastian went over his lunch break by half an hour.

Sebastian didn't say anything for the rest of the day. The next time some chick came in looking for clothes, he didn't bother following up with her in the dressing room because he felt sick. He felt sick that he saw her hold that red t-shirt and, in his mind, he already knew what kind of shorts or jeans would look good with it, what kind of shoes, makeup… _fuck_.

He stayed silent and clocked off at five. He met Jeff, Kurt and Trent at the movies even though he didn't want to.

The movie was one of those slapstick comedies that Sebastian never really got into, even though Jeff managed to snort bad cinema coffee from his nose like he'd been trying to mainline macchiatos.

Then another part of him just shouted back out: _You should be lucky these people give a shit about you after the bullshit you pulled._

Sebastian was so damn tired of school-work-plans-errands-for-my-fucking-parents thing that he'd been doing for the past few weeks that he started to nod off a little in the cinema. He changed so that he had on slim-fit jeans that looked like they were painted on, an egg-shell white sweater vest about as thin as eight-year-old Sydney and a baby-blue button-down underneath. His clothes were dangerously close to leaving the _threw this on from whatever is on my floor_ territory.

If anyone asked, his mom picked it out for him. But he was nervous. Dixon looked like he found his jeans in one of those things they did for charity. Sterling didn't know how to dress without making himself look gaunt and dying. You only had to look at Kurt Hummel to know that his dad pushed him around to eat breakfast and he slept at nine without fail.

Sebastian couldn't believe that he was wearing this either. What happened to pants that had their chains ripped off?

When everyone else was roaring with laughter, Sebastian was thinking about that time he was twelve and he had his silk raspberry-coloured scarf caught into door to English class. The biggest bully of the year, some guy with wheat hair and a shiny smile, laughed at _the fag_ as Sebastian choked and screamed so hard that he managed to pass out. Pathetic.

Why the hell was he so goddamn stuck in the past?

He spent the movie scrolling through his phone, much to everyone else's chagrin. Some guy kept telling him to ditch the phone every hour, and Sebastian flipped him off more times than he could count. Whatever. Losers.

"Um," Jeff was kind of a fucking baby when he talked to him. "Can you switch your phone off?"

"Whatever," Sebastian replied, and put his phone away. Now, that his asshole side of him was disappearing, he felt guilty. Sure, _he_ didn't feel like going out but why the hell should he ruin everyone else's fucking night? He shouldn't have come.

Sitting there in the movies with the Warblers, Sebastian felt a plague of emotions just hit him at once. Could they just stop? Because he was sick of it. No matter what, he couldn't shake off this feeling that maybe he should talk to his ex-boyfriend. He kept on staring glances at Jeff who was laughing every five seconds. Trent could probably get himself a guy with a wave of his wand too, but Sebastian couldn't. Kurt Hummel was getting fucking married, which was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard but he still had someone. Even though Sebastian was regularly stuffed with more cream than a Little Debbie Swiss roll (which were, by the way, disgusting), he had nobody. Besides his ex-boyfriend, who else was going to go out with him? Colt always told him that nobody else would ever like him. Sebastian scoffed at the time. He had to be worth more than a guy that fucked him when Sebastian was so trashed that he told him to stop or he was going to puke. Ha.

_Hey_, Sebastian thought of how he'd text Colt. _I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you an abusive, narcissistic sociopath…_

Sebastian ended up leaning against Jeff mid-way through the movie. Jeff moved his hand over to Sebastian's shoulder, and pressed his head against Sebastian's. The position was so damn comfortable, and Sebastian was fucking tired all the time that he'd just decided to snooze away Trent's hard-earned cash. What was the point of Trent getting him a ticket if he slept in the first half an hour, you know? And he didn't wake up at all until Jeff shook him awake at the end of the movie.

"I'm amazed you slept through all that laughing," Jeff commented, as Sebastian rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"Huh… I must've been really fucking tired," Sebastian replied. He was exhausted all the time. "I don't feel good."

_Why did you say that?_ Sebastian thought to himself in his head. _Nobody would believe you unless you start puking blood, princess. _

"You never feel good," Trent pointed out. Huh. Even Trent Dixon knew that Sebastian complained about not feeling great all the time. He'd skipped dancing in the last few Warblers practices in fear that he might actually throw up whatever was inside his stomach. He felt kind of fragile, like he'd fall apart any fucking second. "What is up with that anyway?"

"Is it a crime not to feel good?" Sebastian stared at Trent coldly. "If Sterling or Gay Face over here complained about not feeling great, you'd be babying them. When I complain about it, it's like I'm fucking lying," he was so annoyed at this.

"Because you always feel like that," Kurt replied. "Do I need to mention it again that your lifestyle probably doesn't help?"

"No thanks, princess," Sebastian was sick of hearing that it was all related to his lifestyle. If he got hit by a car, it was because he wasn't looking right because of his poor alcohol-dependent brain. "Stop being so damn redundant."

"I can say the same thing for you," Kurt's voice was lighthearted, but Sebastian didn't know what to say.

"Hey, stop it," Jeff said, finally standing up for Sebastian who was unexpected but made him feel good. "You're supposed to be his friend, right, Kurt? You've been picking on him all fucking day. I'm sick of you telling him off for not feeling great. Even if it is from his lifestyle, he doesn't need you reminding him about it all the time. How can you complain about hating it when he tells you off for wanting to get married to Blaine—which, you know I agree with him because you are crazy young for that—but then turn around and bitch about he obviously feels like shit because of his drinking?"

Sebastian stayed silent for some time and Kurt didn't say anything. They were both pretty damn stubborn people. Fine.

Most of the people had already poured out of the cinema. Sebastian still didn't want to go home until he was so exhausted that he'd fall asleep even over the sound of his parents fighting over how weird he was acting.

This was all because Sebastian wasn't complaining about going to school. His teachers were sending in stuff about how they were glad he sorted out his attitude problem and that he had such a promising future now. Every time he read those letters, he felt even worse about himself. Sebastian had been toying with the idea of driving himself to the hospital for weeks now.

What was he going to say? _I was a dick before but now I'm nicer? I had an attitude problem? I don't know what's wrong with me?_

Nobody else felt like he had any kind of serious problem. If he complained about the ritualistic morning vomitting and his headache, they'd probably laugh at him when he told them that he pretty much got blackout drunk on a nightly basis. Even if he wasn't going to Scandals, Sebastian still bought a bottle of liquor to take with him to bed. He drank so he didn't feel so lonely, because even though he now had 'friends', he still felt as bad as ever because they weren't _that_ close yet.

How could people notice that you were so damn different but not wonder what was going on? Why was it so hard for everyone else to believe that there might be something seriously wrong with you?

"Um…" Trent was trying to break the weird silence between them. "Are you guys up for dinner?"

Sebastian was nauseous from not eating as much as he was nauseous at the thought of eating. "I'll take a raincheck," he sped out of the cinema after faking smiles and saying he had a good time. Yeah, a good time being fucking ignored.


	9. Dave's Musings

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Nine:

* * *

Dave watched Sebastian lying on his bed, snoring as Dave was doing his own math homework.

"Hey," Paul greeted when he walked into Dave's room. Sebastian was out like a light. "Is your friend okay?"

"I…I don't think so, Dad," Dave honestly said. He didn't believe it before, but he felt kind of gross on the inside when he looked at Sebastian now. He looked like he was in a fucking coma. "I think there's something seriously wrong with him."

Paul stared at Dave, who was super freaked out. "Why do you think that there's something wrong?"

"Because he says so," Dave admitted, trying not to keep his eyes locked on Sebastian's tired face. "Nobody believes him."

Paul looked surprised. "What about Kurt?" he asked, because Kurt was a fucking saint to him. "He's a pretty decent guy."

"Kurt thinks that it's because he drinks so much. Do you know how I sometimes go to that bar? Scandals?" Dave asked, and Paul nodded his head. His dad didn't like it, but he thought that it was okay as long as he was safe. Ha. As if Dave was ever going to get laid, even if it was at a seedy bar. "He pretty much gets drunk every night, and he throws up every morning. I know it sounds like it's just a hangover, but he can't stay up for more than a hour without falling asleep."

Paul looked like he thought it was just from the booze too. "Every night?" he asked. "Jeez. Where are the kid's parents?"

Dave bit down on his lower lip. "Well, uh…" he was rolling his pencil in his fingers. "They want to get divorced, I guess. I was there when his dad told him. It was majorly wrong, but we didn't talk about it afterwards. He never bought it up."

Yeah, that was a pretty dick-ish move he knew. "Sounds like he's just going through a tough time," Paul said.

"I know," Dave said, but he couldn't shake off that feeling. "But Dad, he _really_ doesn't look good…"

By the time, Paul had already left, so it was just Dave alone with his thoughts. How fucking nice.

For the past few weeks, every time someone told Sebastian about going somewhere, he agreed without mentioning that he wasn't feeling up to it. Dave watched it from a far and it fucking pained him. Dave, Sebastian and Blaine even went to a kickboxing class yesterday. All throughout the hour, Dave kept looking back at Sebastian and noticing that this guy could barely stand without yawning or rubbing his eyes, much less try to punch his way through anything, you know?

Sebastian could barely keep up with the fucking conversation they had after, much less the class.

He might have stopped complaining about how shit he felt, but all Dave could see that he was looking worse every day.

Sebastian barely even looked at Dave when he came in his room an hour ago. He threw his notebook on the table, told him to do Problems Eight through Ten and then collapsed on the bed. He was snoring in seconds. Now as he sat down by his notebook, Dave watched Sebastian's chest rise up and down, drool collecting around his mouth. But what really scared Dave was the fact that he didn't look so great. He was pretty pale and sweaty, and his cheeks were starting to cave in. He had bags under his eyes even though this guy was pretty much sleeping his life away right now. When Sebastian sat up, he sat up like his head weighted a tonne, like he could barely lift it by himself and he needed help.

_I'm surprised at how non-offensive Sebastian is being about the wedding_, Kurt told Dave just a few hours ago.

Dave had looked over at Sebastian. He wanted to call bullshit. Sebastian wasn't fucking awake long enough to give a shit about whether or not Kurt and Blaine were planning their fucking honeymoon. _Kurt, he really doesn't look good._

_You think that he's so sick too?_ Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. _If he really was that sick, don't you think we'd know?_

_Yeah, obviously,_ Dave rolled his eyes. Kurt wouldn't know that Sebastian as sick if he'd fucking collapse and die._ Look, Kurt, I thought you were a pretty nice, understanding guy. But isn't it obvious that he doesn't look great? _

_Yes, that's what happens when you drink that much alcohol on a nightly basis on top of packs of cigarettes_, Kurt replied.

Dave just groaned. _But he's been doing that for years! Why the hell would he be so sick now?_ It was weird, saying that a little guy like Sebastian had been smoking packets of cigarettes or drinking bottles of booze a day. It made him realise how fucked his home life was like. He was pretty sure his parents couldn't control Sebastian, just like his dad couldn't control him.

But what the fuck was up with Kurt? Dave was pretty pissed that Kurt was so insistent on the fact that Sebastian was acting weird because he had a bad drinking problem, or because he had problems at home (that by the way, they didn't talk about). Dave was pretty annoyed at the predicament they were in. They were sort of friends, but not really. Dave called Sebastian out on being fake, but he felt like taking it back right now, because he could still talk to Sebastian about his suicide attempt and be taken seriously, you know? Because Sebastian knew that kind of stuff didn't just go away…

Dave sighed deeply, looking at his awful scribble on his math book.

He didn't wake Sebastian up to do Problems Eight through Ten. Dave knew that he wasn't like the greatest friend ever, but it was mean to wake this guy up. He knew that Sebastian told him to wake him up after half an hour, but he couldn't.

Dave was trying to focus on watching one of the Hellraiser movies that he'd memorised down to the fucking lines, but all he could do was look back at Sebastian. The inconsiderate asshole didn't even bother taking his shoes off before he collapsed on his bed, and he was sprawled out on the bed like it was _his_ bed. One of his long arms sticking out of each side of his bed, and he looked like a victim in a crime scene more than a guy that was just taking a fucking nap.

After about two hours, he slowly wandered over to Sebastian and tried to shake him awake.

"Hey," Dave said, but Sebastian didn't even move. Dave shook him even more. "Sebastian, wake up," he said, frustrated.

After a few more shakes, Dave started freaking out because Sebastian was not waking up. His limbs were floppy, like his bones were made from rubber and he didn't even open his eyes. Dave was suddenly aware of Sebastian's chest rising.

_"SEBASTIAN?"_ Dave shrieked, shaking Sebastian but finding that he just went even more limp and tired in his hands.

Dave was shaking Sebastian as violently as he could. He accidentally slammed Sebastian straight into his table beside him by accident. Even with the impact of the table, Sebastian only slowly opened his sleepy green eyes. _"Hmm?"_ he wasn't even pissed that he'd probably hit his head hard enough to break his skull. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Sebastian, what the fuck? Are you okay, man?" was Dave's first question, only for Sebastian to slowly shake his head.

He looked drowsy, like he took like a super strong sleeping pill and he wasn't aware of what was going on. With a shaky hand, Sebastian reached over to grab Dave's hand. He smiled a little at him, his eyes looking watery. "Remember when…" his hand shaking a little bit, as he squeezed Dave's hand. "When you asked me to tell you a secret?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded his head slowly. "You told me you never let your ex-boyfriend come into your flat before."

Dave thought about how he told Sebastian about how he didn't want anything in common with his mom.

After a pause, Dave asked, "Do you wanna tell me something?" he asked. "Sebastian?"

Sebastian's smile disappeared. "Yeah… Colton," he said, deadpanned. "Dave, he… he wasn't a good guy."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Sebastian," Dave looked down and saw Sebastian clinging onto his arm. He looked like a little kid. It freaked him out that there was a guy that made Sebastian fucking Smythe feel this way. "What did he do?"

Sebastian just stared at Dave. "I'll tell you another time," he said. "Promise… are you gonna tell me a secret?"

Dave just looked at him for a while, and then just placed a hand on Sebastian's. "I'm scared that people are gonna forget about me once the whole suicide attempt thing blows over," he said. Dave was both wishing it was over, and at the same time, scared of what was going to happen when he wasn't shielded from the fact that he wasn't in a good state, you know?

Sebastian looked at him with serious eyes. "Nobody's gonna forget about you, bear cub," he said. "Nobody sees you like that, you know, like the guy that just tried to off himself. They see you as… as _you_." Dave didn't know how to feel about it.

"Can I touch your hair?" Dave asked, surprised by his question. He didn't think he'd be touching Smythe's hair.

"Why would you want to?" Sebastian asked but then immediately said, "Yeah, okay."

Dave slowly ran his hand through his dark brown hair. Sebastian's hair was soft and it kind of smelled…weird, but the nice, new kind of weird. Whatever he was using was not some generic guy shampoo.

"Huh," Sebastian leaned into Dave's warm, big hand. "I ain't ever had anyone do that before. Like petting a cat?"

"It ain't like petting a cat… I guess I'm your first," Dave replied. He didn't know what was going on with Sebastian, but he just had this sinking feeling about it. All he knew about Sebastian was that his parents were divorcing, and he had a bad ex-boyfriend. Oh, and he drank himself to death. _Why_ was he so damn surprised that Sebastian didn't look so hot?

"Funny," Sebastian snorted, and turned to the side. "There ain't my firsts left for me," he snorted, sounding despondent.

First drink. First time you slept with someone. First time you nearly blinded a guy with a slushie… Dave closed his eyes.

Dave bit the bullet. He couldn't hold it in anymore. "Did you talk to your parents?" he asked. "About the divorce?"

Sebastian shook his head, gazing blankly at the ceiling. "What am I gonna say to them, Dave?" he looked like he was very ready to talk to him now, because he was drowsy as hell and looked like he was going to go back to sleep any second now. Dave wondered if Sebastian was even going to remember what they were talking about. "I was fucking humiliated."

Dave opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He'd be humiliated too.

"Did anyone else talk to you about it?" Dave asked, and Sebastian shook his head. It had been a few days since it happened, so this was a pretty shitty thing for Blaine and Kurt to not do. But he was the same boat, you know? It made all three of them uncomfortable to even think about that night. "You could talk to Kurt, or Blaine… um… they were there."

Sebastian snorted, and yawned again, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure they'd be a real fucking help," he said bitterly.

Dave wanted to tell him to look at the bright side, and that Kurt and Blaine were not that bad. But truth was, they weren't treating him right. Even though Sebastian was visibly trying to be better. "Hey," he said. "They'll warm up to you."

Sebastian was unconvinced. "Yeah, when hell freezes over," he replied. "Dave, hey… am I really _that_ bad?"

"No," Dave replied, but he felt his heart drop when Sebastian opened his eyes and they were filled with unshed tears. He couldn't believe that the nicest two gay guys he knew could make someone else feel like this. He was pretty pissed off that they were writing off his efforts, especially since he'd been hanging out with them even when he looked and obviously felt like shit. But he didn't feel like they were making the effort. "Even before, you were never really a bad person. Maybe a little rough around the edges. But you—you know, you fessed up to the fact that you were wrong."

"I guess," Sebastian just shrugged. "Gay Face and I had a big fight about it a few days back. I fucking cried in front of him, and he just…I don't know. He brushed it off like it happened every day. And it pissed me off, you know?"

Dave froze. "That's not okay," he was surprised that Kurt acted like that. "Wait, did you say _you_ cried?"

"He just pissed me off so damn much," Sebastian admitted, as if people cried when they were angry. "I was talking about how I apologised about the whole almost-blinding-Blaine thing a million times. I know it was a dick move, but it was a fucking _prank_, you know? I didn't know that it was going to happen. I had a whole fucking team behind me but he's acting like I was planning to blind the guy. But they're all okay with the rest of the Warblers and every fucking else."

Before Dave could reply, Sebastian just curled his hand into a fist. "What the hell do they want me to do, you know?"

Dave cleared his throat. "It'll get better. Kurt will get over it," he tried to be supportive. "It's probably just a hard thing for people to get over. The guy had to get surgery. I mean…I'd be pissed myself if someone almost blinded someone I care about, even if it was just a prank. Imagine that happening to your twin brother. You'd fucking lose it, won't you?"

Sebastian didn't seem happy with that reply. "Yeah, I know." He looked like he got what Dave was saying.

Dave was sure he said all the wrong stuff because Sebastian looked devastated. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again.

"Look, Dave, it's either that's everyone's a dick," Sebastian said dryly, but he still didn't sound persuaded. "Or I am. And I'm finding it hard to believe that it's them that's the problem and it ain't me, you know? But how am I gonna fix me?"

Dave wondered how this kid went from one extreme to the next. It didn't sound right. He was convinced that he wasn't at fault for the stuff that he did one hour, and then the next, he was convinced that he did something that justified the fact that his father outright humiliated him in front of his friends for no goddamn reason. Dave was still a little speechless, thinking about how bad it was to hear news like that when you felt were hungover and were around people you weren't even sure were your friends. It was even worse that Blaine and Kurt didn't talk to him about it either.

How were they supposed to get over their issues if they kept acting like Sebastian was not even fucking human?

"You don't have to fix you," Dave was suddenly aware of the one-year difference between him and Sebastian. He tried to imagine a fifteen-year-old Sebastian sucking cock and recklessly drinking. Imagine not having anyone to stop you from hurting yourself. Dave could understand why the hell he was so bitter on the inside. "Things will be okay. It'll take time."

"How is it that I don't got to fix me?" Sebastian rubbed his eyes. "If I'm nice, everyone acts like a dick to me. I do one wrong thing—and don't give me that fucking look, Dave. I _know_ it was a big deal—and I'm worse than a fucking murderer."

"That's not true," Dave didn't think that Sebastian was that bad. He felt like he was over-exaggerating stuff. Sure, he knew that Kurt could be a little mean to him, and it kind of weirded him out. But Sebastian liked the guy that he wanted to marry, so it just made sense that there was this natural rivalry. "If you were that bad, why are people inviting you to stuff?"

Sebastian snorted, as if he was surprised Dave didn't know. "So, they don't feel bad about excluding me."

Dave opened his mouth to deny this, but he could see how Sebastian would feel that way. Every time he was invited somewhere, he barely had an input in where they were heading. The last time that he, Kurt and Blaine had been in the same room together, Kurt had been acting like Sebastian had gone from a fucking criminal to a normal person. But Dave felt like Sebastian was weirdly withdrawn and barely talked. It was barely like he was there most days.

"Can you honestly say that they give a shit about my opinions, Dave?" Sebastian asked seriously.

Dave shook his head. "Hey, look," he tried to cheer him up. "I'll have your back next time, okay?" he rubbed his shoulder.

"Why didn't you have my back before?" Sebastian asked, but it wasn't in a cold accusing tone. He wished that Sebastian sounded pissed, but he sounded sad and wondering. Dave felt like a dick for thinking all that bad stuff about this guy.

"Why don't you have my back right _now?"_ Dave wanted to say that he did have his back. He was on Sebastian's side.

Underneath all those rusty nails, Sebastian seemed like a pretty nice guy. He obviously was sensitive too, because he kept like a million hard-to-peel layers and only showed how vulnerable he was for flashes at a time. Dave was sure that when Sebastian ate something and they played a little of his video games, he'd go back to being his charming self. But Dave was ready to throw away all the fucking bias and prejudice he had against the guy. Sebastian obviously needed friends, and he was doing his job. Why the hell was nobody else doing their job and expected him to do all the heavy lifting?

Sebastian left his house late at night. Paul told him that he thought that the honey cake his mom made was nice, but he didn't get the whole bear cub thing. Sebastian laughed a little, as if it was a good joke and then left.

The next day, Dave saw Sebastian in the Lima Bean sitting with Kurt, Blaine, Rachel and Mercedes. Dave wasn't close with the rest of Kurt's friends, but they were okay with each other for the most part right now.

When he walked towards them, he realised how tense everyone was at and how restricted the conversations were. Dave was pretty sure that was because Sebastian was there. Come on. He wasn't going to fucking spy on them, and report back to Dalton. The guy was on his phone, looking up results of last night's hockey game because he probably dozed off before he could watch it. Dave couldn't help but notice that Sebastian was wearing the same clothes as yesterday: a light denim jacket, rippled black jeans and a crisp white shirt underneath. He had on a pair of pretty nice-looking beige boots.

Dave felt a little underdressed walking to them. Kurt and Mercedes were done up like always. Rachel Berry, even in her dead old lady sweaters, still looked cute in the roadkill sort of way. Blaine somehow looked okay in everything he wore

"Did you see that thing I sent on the Glee group last night about the Vocal Adrenaline coach admitting to being raped by Carmel High's math teacher?" Kurt rattled off, but you could tell that things were a little tense. But that was because nobody talked about rape when they were drinking coffee for fuck's sake. Dave sat down with them, not sure why he was in the Lima goddamn Bean when he hated coffee. He was nursing a mediocre overpriced hot cocoa and looked over at Sebastian, feeling like he got to protect the little guy. Even if he wasn't actually _little_ at six foot two. "She's building up a case against him and her trial is next week. Could you imagine?" he sounded outraged.

Dave felt Sebastian stiffen beside him and look disgusted. Did he not like talking about this stuff?

"Yeah," Mercedes replied, drinking her iced coffee and looking suspiciously over at Sebastian. "Did you read that thing that they posted on The Ohio Show Choir Blog about how he said that it shouldn't count because she _sort of_ said yes?"

"People are horrible," Blaine agreed, running his hand through his hair.

"Ugh. I have my NYADA application done. But I'm not sure how good it is yet. I guess I'll have to review it again before I send it." Kurt complained. Dave looked over at Sebastian, who just kept looking at his coffee. He looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him whole. "No! How can she sort of say yes when she was almost unconscious?"

Then it clicked in Dave's head. What if that Colton guy actually raped Sebastian?

"Apparently, she consented before she lost consciousness," Rachel rolled her eyes. "As if she really was in her right mind."

Before Dave could say anything, Sebastian cleared his throat. He was sweating through his jacket and Dave could tell. "I can look over it if you want to, princess," he reminded him. "Can we stop fucking talking about this?"

"Why? Do the real issues bother you?" Kurt asked, not looking up from his mocha. "And no, it's fine."

Sebastian just stiffened. Dave didn't know if it would freak him out if he reached over to touch his hand and over his unyielding support? He didn't take the chance… even though he wanted to. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Hey, Kurt, just let it go," Dave was feeling sick in his stomach, because he was pretty sure that Sebastian was—

"No, I won't let it go," Kurt said. He didn't know what the fuck was up with Kurt. He felt like he had to make a damn point for every sensitive topic he could. Dave sent Kurt signals to shut the fuck up, but he didn't get it. "What is wrong with talking about it? Do you expect that these problems are gonna go away if you don't talk about them? I realise that certain topics make you uncomfortable. They might not exist in your bubble, but that doesn't mean they aren't a problem."

Dave felt all the blood rush to his head. Even if he was sure that he was right, he couldn't disrespect Sebastian like that.

"How the hell do _you_ know if it don't exist in his bubble?" Dave asked, and he noticed Sebastian look away from him. "Kurt, I'm fucking sick of you treating him like shit. It's like you want to pick a fight with him."

Kurt went red. Dave knew how Kurt was like. If you called him out on his bullshit, sometimes, he defended himself and sometimes, he just acted like he was the one that was the real victim here. Kurt looked over at Mercedes and Rachel, who obviously agreed with what Dave said. And when those two agreed with his shit, then he knew that it must be damn obvious that Kurt was acting like an asshole to Sebastian. "You're on _his_ side too?" Kurt asked them. "You're my friends."

"He's your friend too," Blaine reminded him. "Kurt, you haven't said one good thing about him. It's been weeks."

"You've been chewing him out for weeks," Mercedes agreed, fiddling with her dark green coloured straw and avoiding eye contact with him.

Sebastian was 'being nice' (didn't mean he had to take being a doormat, yeah?) but he took Kurt chewing him out. Well, that was also probably because he was so zoned out that he didn't look like he got the energy to fight about this with him. He reached over to feel for Sebastian's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Sebastian looked like he was dozing off already, even though this guy spent the whole day sleeping. He got a cup of coffee in his hands, but he barely drank any of it. His Nutella croissant was left untouched.

Kurt sighed deeply. "Fine. I'm sorry," Kurt said, but it didn't feel genuine. Sebastian just nodded his head. "Is that better?"

"Yeah," Sebastian didn't look like he gave a shit about Kurt's apology. "But next time just try not to sound too fucking condescending, yeah?" he rolled his eyes, but he didn't really look like himself. Dave Karofsky wondered what the hell happened to Sebastian Smythe, because he wouldn't let himself be bitched around like that by Kurt, you know? It wasn't about being nice no more. It was about the fact that Sebastian didn't deserve to be talked to like that.

"I apologised, what more do you want from me?" Kurt retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pitiful. Sebastian just scoffed. "I can't exactly go back in time and change how I'd been acting for the past few weeks."

"I was wondering the same goddamn fucking thing," Sebastian hissed. "I said sorry too. What do _you_ want from me?"

Kurt raised his hands up in the air into defeat. "Fine," he said. "If you think it's okay to almost blind someone…"

"I never fucking said that," Sebastian said, and Dave was sick of having this same conversation all the damn time. What was up with the whole slushie thing anyway? It was a fucking prank that didn't go so good. What did Kurt want him to do? Tear out his heart and apologise to him? "You were okay with squaring up before but now, it's beneath you?"

"You're beneath me," Kurt replied almost automatically. "My boyfriend had to get eye surgery because of you."

"Your boyfriend can speak for his fucking self," Sebastian reminded him, and Blaine just flushed. "Can't you, Blaine? Or did Hummel cut off your tongue for having a different opinion?"

Blaine reached over and grabbed Sebastian's hand, looking at him with a concerned facial expression. But he didn't say anything, but Dave knew that he could see that wasn't normal. "Kurt, you know that I know that it was just a prank gone wrong. I forgave him when it happened months ago and I'm sick of having the same conversation about it. It happens. He got better after that. He sent thousands of dollars to charity just because he was shocked about what happened to Dave. Even my own parents think that Sebastian's reformed," he said, sounding tense. "So, can you just let it go now?"

Blaine just rubbed the back of his neck and then asked, straight up, "What is this really about, Kurt?" he confronted.

Kurt's shoulders dropped but Dave could tell that it was going to take more than a couple of words for it to be okay.

"I…I just can't envision a scenario where we're friends," Kurt admitted, and Dave figured that out. He doubted that it was really about the slushie thing. It was about the fact that Sebastian was trying to be in their group, but he didn't fit in. "I don't know how to deal with you being around so much. I don't trust you around my fiancé. And don't you have any other friends? As in the Warblers? Why do you have to crash the McKinley Glee club?" he gestured towards their circle.

"You don't trust him around me?" Blaine echoed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Kurt?"

"It means that I don't trust a guy who's only sole objective in life is to sleep with you," Kurt replied bitterly.

Dave was more than just a little pissed at Kurt. He was raging. Even his friends didn't look like they were happy about how hostile Kurt was because Mercedes was gesturing for Sebastian to stay. And how the hell did he know if Sebastian even still liked Blaine like that? Because he looked about as captivated with Blaine right now as he was with his croissant.

"Can you two deal with your marriage problem some other time?" Dave asked. "Because this ain't about either of you."

"Oh no, it's about Sebastian Smythe," Kurt said his name like it was a curse. "When is it not about Sebastian fucking Smythe?"

"It's about me, huh...? Because I thought this was all about you," Sebastian managed to stagger to his feet and walk out of the Lima Bean. He looked seriously upset.

Dave followed him out of the café, noticing him standing there looking completely torn apart.

Sebastian's hand was shaking again and he was smoking his cigarette like it was the thing that was giving him life support. Dave stood beside him and then grabbed his free hand. Sebastian looked at him with soft green eyes. What was he thinking about? Because it couldn't be good. Dave couldn't get this feeling out of his stomach that Sebastian was going to seriously hurt himself, you know? Dave took in his face: freckled, narrow faced, thin lipped. Sebastian's hand was felt cold and small, as if he was fading away without it being in that emo kind of way.

Before Dave could feel awkward about this, Sebastian inched closer to him and pressed his head against his shoulder.

They looked up at the clear blue sky for a few moments, and Dave thought about parts of conversations they had.

"You remember when you said that if people were looking at you and me together, they'd think that you were straight?" Sebastian asked, and Dave remembered. He remembered Sebastian telling him that people didn't think like that. "We look plenty suck-your-dick gay right now, don't you think?" Dave agreed, but he didn't feel uncomfortable with the idea.

"Yeah. I think the sucking dick thing shows up after you admit it," Dave honestly replied. "I'm sorry about Kurt."

"Maybe," Sebastian didn't look like he cared about looking gay so much. Well, the part that didn't involve lipstick anyway. "I'm not sorry. Why the fuck is he such a fucking asshole?"

Before Dave could say anything else—about how he was handling the divorce, about if he was okay and if his twin was doing okay, Sebastian just buried his head deeper into his shoulder. And then Dave felt the wetness of his tears. Dave wrapped his arm around Sebastian's waist. "Hey," Dave said, rubbing his back. "Hey, hey, it's okay."


	10. Sebastian Reaches His Limit

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Ten: Sebastian Reaches His Limit

* * *

That morning that Sebastian woke up, he raced to the bathroom to start puking at five in the morning. He felt like shit.

He felt so much like shit that he was clinging onto the sink and sweating more than he did in his last hookup a few days back with Blondie (yeah, again. No, he didn't steal his milk this time). He felt a piercing pain in his head, enough to make his vision go black. Sebastian whimpered like the pathetic fucking puppy that he turned to in the past month.

What the flying fuck was up with him these days? He was such a bitch. He cried on Dave just a few days ago and now, he was scared to return too many of Dave's texts in case he could decipher the fact that Sebastian still didn't feel so good.

He felt so bad that he was practically crawling back into his room. Not before he felt someone bump into him.

Sebastian used the wall to steady himself. Internally, he was freaking the fuck out because he couldn't see.

"Seb?" Sydney called out, and Sebastian spat on him—or he tried to. He couldn't see, but his brother knew very well that he hated that fucking nickname. Seb was that guy that wore the same sweatshirt for three days, and hadn't gotten treated for that STD that he'd had since he was in college, okay? It wasn't him. Sydney grabbed his shoulders and with the pulsating of Sebastian's head, he slowly regained his vision, but it was blurry. "What fucking took you so long?"

"What do you want from me, Sydney?" Sebastian hissed at him. He didn't want to talk to nobody today.

"Why were you in the fucking bathroom for that long?" Sydney was pissed. His straight guy clothes were wrinkled. He was obviously late to school, and they both knew that Sydney was one bad grade from being kicked out of school. "It's not like you were putting your shitty makeup on, and whoring your ass out for your pretty little show choir boys, huh?"

Sebastian whistled. "What crawled in your ass last night?" he asked, only for Sydney to scoff.

"Whatever, Seb," Sydney looked like he wouldn't care if Sebastian just fucking died right there. Dick. Sebastian watched as his brother walked into the bathroom, probably to take a shit and wash his teeth so that his girlfriend would kiss him.

Huh. Sydney looked better when everything was black. The world was pretty funny, wasn't it?

"What's going on here?" his dad, who had disappeared from his life for the last two weeks, walked to Sebastian, holding a mug of low-fat coffee in his hand. He was one of those guys that drank from the same mug every day. "You look like shit."

Sebastian thought that that was a funny thing to hear from a guy that looked like shit every day.

"Thanks for noticing," Sebastian sneered. "Where the fuck have you been? You drop a bombshell on me, telling me you're going to divorce my fucking mother and then you disappear from the face of the fucking Earth? Seriously?"

Jean offered him a watery smile. "Aren't you supposed to be nice, kid?" he ruffled through Sebastian's hair.

Sebastian ran his hand through his hair, which he didn't bother styling or fixing into something good today. He didn't care.

"Nice don't mean that I'm going to let you walk all over me, Dad," Sebastian replied. He wished that he could grab Jean's coffee and hurl it at his face just to ruin his good fucking mood. Jean would stay in the morning just to drink his stupid coffee, but his son could die in his sleep and he wouldn't give a shit. "How dare you say that in front of those people? Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is that the whole of Ohio probably know about my parents divorcing?"

"Look, I know that I didn't say it right but…" Jean's face softened. "It just came out like that. We were fighting and…"

Sebastian knew that he'd said some pretty nasty things when he was fighting with his parents too. "Why couldn't you just tell me before, huh? Why did you have to wait until we were fucking fighting before you dropped that on me?"

Jean laughed, and his laugh was unexpected and added fuel to Sebastian's fire. What the fuck was up with him?

"Do you know how hard it is to raise you?" Jean asked, shaking his head. "You're so damn sensitive about everything."

"That's… that ain't true, okay?" Sebastian said but he knew that it was true. He did bitch and cry about everything. It was the reason that his parents tried to get him that scholarship to Dalton in the first place. Every time he came from Thurston, he'd bitch and moan about how people hated him and about how he didn't want to go to school no more.

Jean rubbed Sebastian's shoulder. "Your mother didn't want to upset you, okay?" he admitted. "She would've let this go on for another five years more. And it just came out, and I'm sorry that it came out like this, but… you have to understand what it's like to be around you, Sebastian. It's not been easy for us. Your mood swings are fucking impossible."

"Yeah, I know," Sebastian said softly. He wondered why they never talked about what happened with Colton either.

Sebastian nodded his head, because he got it. He knew that he was a fucking bitch even underneath all this tough talk. He could see that now he was being 'nicer'. When Blaine rejected him, he cried about it for days. His abusive ex-boyfriend got him trapped in a relationship for months because of how soft Sebastian was underneath all of that crust and faux hardness.

So now, not only was he a fucking cry-baby, he had to resign to the fact that everyone also thought he was a dick. Nice.

"But how come we don't talk about it after?" Sebastian didn't get why they'd been avoiding everything.

Jean moved in and gave Sebastian a half-hug, rubbing down his back. He was embarrassed because it did make him feel a little better. "Because I don't really do the talking thing," he reminded Sebastian, sighing deeply. "Look, Seb, if you're pissed at what's going on, I don't know because you don't tell me either. I don't know what's going on with you anymore. You completely zeroed off with me. You're just angry all the damn time, and it's like you developed this fucking intense fascination with hurting yourself. I don't know what the fuck we ever did for you to be this… self-destructive but I don't like it. It's fucking killing your mother and I because no parent wants to see their kid act like this, you know?"

"Yeah, well…" Sebastian smiled weakly at his father, because he wasn't going to go into this at six in the morning right after he had the worst headache of his fucking life. "I guess that some things happened and we just… didn't deal."

"Yeah," Jean agreed, and they both knew that they were talking about Colton. "I don't even know what happened."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, because he wasn't about to tell his dad what happened now, you know? But Sebastian's fury was blunted, and he didn't even have to reach for a cigarette. Did this fight really blow over this quick?

Jean offered a weak smile. "We're gonna talk about this after, okay?" he said. "Look… for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded his head, feeling a little juvenile for how pissed he'd been at his own dad. "I'm sorry too."

"Come on, I'll take you to school," Jean kept a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. He opened his mouth to tell his dad off for even thinking of him going to school, but he shut the fuck up. He was sick of telling people that he didn't feel that great. He had the most erroneous lifestyle and was beginning to believe everyone else was right. "You're up for that, right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sebastian replied back dully, feeling the ache in his chest. He didn't wanna go no more.

He went and changed into his Dalton uniform, which was getting loose on him. Sebastian tossed his stupid old school bag over his shoulders and hated himself for not doing his homework for the past week because he'd been so tired.

His mom gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him to have a good day. She had his lunch packed for him. Lame.

In the car ride, they talked mostly about hockey scores, even though Sebastian really wanted to talk to him about other stuff, like how he shitty he'd been feeling and all the drama he'd been having with the other guys at Dalton.

Fortunately, the ride to Dalton was a pretty long drive, and his dad ran out of small talk in the first five minutes.

He stopped by a Dunkin Donuts, got himself some of those diet egg-white ham things that Sebastian always saw but never ate, and bought Sebastian two glazed doughnuts, and a mocha. Sebastian broke off a piece and was nibbling at a corner. He had to talk, you know? Because if he didn't talk to his dad about any of this stuff now, he was never going to.

"Dad," Sebastian felt like a total nerd, talking to his dad about his friends. "I…I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Jean looked at him, looking like he felt bad for him. "What do you mean?" he said. "Are you in any trouble, Seb?"

He shook his head. He didn't know why people wanted to nickname him all the time, but he was sick of fighting it.

"I'm not in any trouble no more. Like I was before," he admitted, shaking his head. Suddenly, Sebastian missed his eyeshadow and glittery shoes. "I don't feel great, but nobody believes me, Dad. I'm so damn tired all the time. I don't care about school no more. I'm trying to make friends with those show choir people, you know? And I think they're trying with me, but it just… it don't feel so natural, I guess. It ain't exactly like I can tell them how I feel about nothing, you know?"

Sebastian admitted that it was nice being with Jean like this, but he also knew that this couldn't be a regular thing. His dad was going to be late for work, but Jean was risking it today on the basis that Sebastian was fighting with him this morning.

"That's because you're not taking your meds," Jean stared a him with a pointed expression. "Are you?"

Sebastian shook his head. He was sick of the Zoloft. He didn't need it. He knew that he was a little moody without it and had a few more days where he'd stay in and cry about how he hated himself, but it wasn't that bad. "It ain't that, okay?"

Jean smiled at him, the kind of smile that told him he didn't believe the shit that Sebastian told him.

"You're saying that you not feeling great ain't related to the fact that you got that mood disorder that you're not taking meds for, because you're trying to medicate it with booze and unrelenting sex?" Jean asked him out right. Sebastian still found it weird that his dad knew that he fucked so many guys, but they never outright talked about it. He knew that he wasn't allowed to leave the house after certain times no more and his mother stormed into his room, throwing away any clothes that didn't cover most of his body. "I know that you're probably sick of hearing this, but…"

"Yeah," Sebastian felt dejected. He didn't know why he bothered to talk to anyone no more about this stuff. Not even his fucking parents believed that it could be from something else. "Whatever, Dad. I don't know why I fucking bother."

"Hey," Jean's voice was hard. "If you're expecting me to think there's another reason for that, you'd be sorely mistaken."

"I'm not talking about this anymore," Sebastian knew that this was dangerously heading to another fight, but he didn't care. He was sick of telling people that he wasn't feeling okay and of pouring his heart out only for them to think it was just because of his booze or his horrible sleep cycle or whatever. He didn't care anymore. They just thought that he was an addict, yeah?

Jean looked over at him at a stop light, really looked at him, and it made Sebastian uncomfortable.

"What happened to you, kid?" Jean suddenly asked. "That asshole that you were dating? What did he do to you?"

"Seriously? Are you asking that now?" Sebastian wanted to laugh. He was fucking incredulous. Seriously?

Sebastian thought that this was a conversation that they should've probably had ages ago, and this wasn't the right time for it. But what was the right time? Did they have to be at home, under blanket covers and at night? Whatever it was, talking about something this heavy just before school didn't seem right. But Sebastian wondered if this was the only time that they were gonna mention Colton. If this was his only chance for him to say something about that guy, you know?

"Does it really matter what he did now, Dad?" Sebastian thought of talking to someone about this years ago. He thought about how it was going to be like, what they were going to say and what he could say back... so, it surprised him when he couldn't find the words to say what he wanted to say. He rubbed his arm, feeling weirded out on the doughnuts on his lap. "If it fucking mattered so much, you should've asked me when it happened. How many years has it been?"

Jean's shoulders stiffened. "What were we supposed to do, Sebastian? You wouldn't talk to us."

Sebastian just shook his head. "So, you just gave up on me? Because I wouldn't talk to you? How is that fucking fair?"

"I never gave up on you," Jean said, and the words were soothing to Sebastian. He wondered what happened in the last three years of his life, you know? He wondered how he turned from this fourteen-year-old kid that just wanted to understand why his parents seemed to like Sydney more than he did him, you know? How the hell did he turn into this cynical asshole that threw himself at any guy that looked like he was gonna give him a good time? "You gave up on you, Seb. You were impossible to talk to. You threw fucking plates at me when I started talking about it. Don't you remember?"

Sebastian did remember. He remembered throwing plates and telling his father to fuck off. He remembered every time his mom told him to stop smoking, he'd smoke more. He'd remembered shooting up drugs at three-am just to piss them off.

The more the memories flooded back, the more he realised that this was his fault. And it was hard to realise that, okay?

Sebastian was fucking embarrassed. He was embarrassed at how bad and uncontrollable he was. He was making his mom cry at four in the morning because she was scared that he was involved in some kind of horrible gang deal.

"Listen," Jean was clearing his throat. "If you ain't gonna let go of what happened before, we are not gonna move forward, you know? I'm willing to forget about the crap you pulled if you're willing to forget about this other stuff too."

"Yeah," Sebastian was sure that the crap he pulled kind of justified why everyone in the world hated him. He'd become so rotten in the few months that he'd been dating that guy, you know? And he wasn't like that. He'd convinced himself that he was good for nothing. Sebastian knew that he wasn't a nice person no more, but that didn't mean that he was a criminal, or that he was violent or dangerous, okay? But people thought that he was because of the things that he used to do, because of how much trouble that he used to get into. "Dad, I know it don't matter anymore but Colt… he raped me."

Before Sebastian could figure out what was happening next, his dad slammed on the brakes. Sebastian was nearly propelled out of his seat. Panting, Sebastian slammed the hazard light button so that they weren't fucking run over or something, shaking his head. At least the road was fucking clear or they'd be toast. This was so fucking stupid.

_"What the fuck is wrong with you?"_ Sebastian and Jean said to each other at the same moment, hyperventilating.

"You could've fucking killed me," Sebastian spat out to his father, feeling like he just had the fright of his life.

"What the fuck do you mean that he raped you?" Jean asked him, looking at him seriously. "Are you serious?"

"No, I was fucking kidding," Sebastian wondered why this felt so damn weird. Do you know how strange it was for your dad to know what you and another guy did under the sheets? Even if said guy was violating you? How did other people tell their parents that they were raped anyway? And how did your aunt find out about it or your uncle?

It wasn't exactly fucking dinner conversation, so how did they know? And what was the right way to say this stuff anyway?

Sebastian looked away from his father, flushing deeply because he couldn't fucking believe he just told that to his dad. He couldn't believe that he said that Colton raped him, even if it was the truth. He couldn't believe that it took three fucking years for that confession to come out of him. He thought that he'd feel good, but instead, all he felt was exhausted and disgusted at himself. Like he could feel how dirty he was to the core. Like he could feel how he felt like straight after he happened.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sebastian had his shoulders slumped back, averting his dad's gaze. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"You think?" Jean ran his hand through his hair. "Jesus, Sebastian, it's like you want me to have another heart attack."

Sebastian felt hot tears fill his eyes. He always had this awful belief that when he told anyone about what Colton did to him, he'd feel like he had this weight lifted off his shoulders, but he didn't feel like that. He felt as heavy as ever. He felt like he was holding onto an anchor and he was drowning in water, and people were watching him. What did he really expect would happen when he told his dad? Did he expect that that feeling of being defiled like that would just go away?

"I said I was sorry, okay?" Sebastian said, wrapping his arms around himself. "What the hell do you want me to do?"

Jean placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, and squeezed it tightly. Sebastian just felt tears run down his cheeks. If he was going to school after this, he wasn't ever going to talk to his father again, but at the same time, the thought of skipping home and passing ice-cream between his mom and Sydney and telling them about Colton sounded even worse.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, because what were they gonna say, huh?

Jean looked back at him ever so often and it was a little unnerving. Sebastian just placed his hands on his lap, his cheeks flushed and freckled. He was embarrassed at his outburst. He was feeling shitty about what his life had come to, and he wished that he was wearing different shoes than these outdated navy-blue Nikes that he hated.

"Sydney doesn't have asthma. Sydney has cystic fucking fibrosis," Jean decided to say after a few moments of silence. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'm so, so sorry."

Sebastian felt like he got all this air knocked out of him, and he needed Sydney's inhaler. He should've known that Sydney was seriously sick. Because suddenly, all those times that he spent, wishing that his parents would pay a little less attention to his brother? Yeah, all that anguish and pain had disappeared in fucking seconds. Because how the fuck could he blame his parents for trying to fatten up a kid that would probably die if he didn't gain weight? Suddenly, all those chest infections and all those years that his mom was crying on the phone made so much fucking sense.

Jean rubbed Sebastian's back, as he just stared at the road. "All your life, your mother wanted to protect you, okay? You were having so much trouble at school anyway. Pushed around because you were gay, she just thought that…"

"This ain't fucking fair," Sebastian said, feeling his chest ache. His family had all these fucking secrets, just like him.

"Sebastian, look, I'm only telling you this because I want us to move on from…" his dad looked shook up.

"Screw you," Sebastian said, his throat closed up. "Why the fuck should I feel bad about not telling you about Colton when you've been hiding a fucking divorce and the fact that my own fucking twin brother could croak any second?"

"I'm trying to fix things now," Jean said desperately. "Look, Sebastian, I just…" his voice trailed off. What could he say?

"No, no, no, I'm not fucking talking to you no more. I'm getting out of here and you better not fucking follow me or I ain't ever talking to you again" Sebastian stormed right off but paused after three steps, looked back at his dad and then honestly said, "I regret telling you about Colt, you know? I wish I kept my mouth fucking shut."

He ignored his father calling out for him. Sebastian lit up a cigarette and threatened not to come back home if his father came after him and Jean realised he was being serious. He had his backpack in his dad's car, but he wasn't going to Dalton, so it didn't really matter so much. He kept walking until he couldn't see his father's car. What a fucking start to the day.

He was in the middle of the goddamn street, smoking a cigarette and his ass was melting straight into the asphalt.

_Pick me up? ;)_ Sebastian texted Blaine, not sure where the hell he was for him to be giving out directions.

He could almost imagine Blaine sighing, as he texted back, asking for a location. By then, it had been ten minutes and Sebastian had walked into a shitty overpriced Thai restaurant that he'd never heard of.

He sat at a booth, soaking with sweat and feeling like he was about to have a heart attack. But like he'd give his parents the satisfaction. He wasn't coming home until late tonight. He was letting them stew in their own misery for a little while. He was sick of trying to be better. It was seven in the fucking morning, and he was flipping through a Thai menu. When he told Blaine that he was at a Thai place, Sebastian felt like he'd suddenly gained fifty fucking pounds and he reminisced of the olden days where he used to eat whole artichoke, cheese and olive pizzas at eleven am whilst he played video games all by himself in a dark room. Try doing that without ruining your fucking manicure. It was fucking hard.

Now, flash forward to these days and the only vegetable Sebastian ate in the last three days was the dried stuff that he got when he poured in hot water into the ramen cups. He didn't even eat the noodles no more. He just drank the soup.

"What the hell are you doing here in this time?" when Sebastian heard that voice, he almost dropped the menu.

He looked up to see that Hunter Clarington was sitting there. He looked like he was seriously hungover. Funny. Sebastian wondered how many Diet Coke and rums he had since Hunter didn't eat anything unless he knew how much carbs it had. Sebastian dropped his hands on his lap, and had Hunter join him on the opposite end of the table.

"You look like shit," Hunter shoved a mug of some herbal tea to him. "What happened to you, Smythe?"

Sebastian took a sip and wondered how the fuck cigarettes were considered unhealthy and this gunk was considered life-affirming. He honestly tasted cleaner twigs when he'd been playing in the mud with all the other kids at school. He rubbed his neck, and then admitted, "My parents don't like each other no more and my brother is seriously sick."

"I can see why going to a Thai restaurant at seven am helps you out," Hunter snorted. He was right. Asshole.

Sebastian just shrugged, not speaking for a few moments. "I got into a fight with my dad and I stormed off," he admitted. He was sure that Hunter wasn't surprised to see him being dramatic. You had to have that to be in show choir. Even that kid in a wheelchair knew how to bitch in a way that made you feel like shit. "I had a bad relationship with this guy, and it fucked me up, you know? I'm not gonna be the same person I was before. That was three years ago, and he just asked about it, so I told him off for asking so late and… he started telling me this other stuff that he'd been keeping from me."

Sebastian realised that Hunter was listening, but he didn't say anything. "What are your folks like?" Sebastian asked.

"Died when I was a little kid," Hunter replied. "I live with my aunt in Westerville."

There was a lapse of silence between them before Hunter asked, "What did this ex-boyfriend do?" Sebastian just shook his head when Hunter asked him, and he seemed to get that it wasn't up for discussion. "That bad, huh?"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah," he wished he could talk about it. He'd been wanting to talk about it with someone for ages. Not like in the therapist kind of way. He didn't mind talking to a shrink, but… he just wanted a friend.

He didn't know if Hunter was his friend though. He said that he'd been assaulted before, but Kurt and Blaine didn't pick up on what he meant. Dave looked like he did, with how he was trying to defend him last time, you know? But he didn't know how to talk to Dave about this stuff either. He didn't know how normal people brought it up. He was already regretting telling his father. He was wishing that it was all going to disappear and he'd go home and everything would be the same. Sebastian didn't want to hear about Colton ever again in his life.

"Your new friends that you've been hanging out with in the mall," Hunter began, and Sebastian shuddered at the thought that Hunter knew what he was doing on his break. Stalkerish much? Did this guy seriously not give him a fucking break? "They're okay with your new shiny personality, huh? Because as far as I know, Sebastian Smythe won't be sitting in a fucking Thai restaurant at seven in the goddamn morning, telling me about his failed relationships. What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you crash your car and get an impending brain injury because you were out drinking at night? Or did you have an epiphany and decide that you're sick of being an ass and want to sing with all the fairies of the land?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I didn't got no fucking epiphany," he admitted. "It just sort of happened one day, you know?"

"You just happened to be a better person overnight?" Hunter asked, and Sebastian nodded his head. He just tried to be a better person anyway, but Hunter didn't look like he was buying it. "There's got to be something, Smythe."

"I don't know, Clarington," Sebastian just shrugged. He was sick of wondering why he changed. "I don't give a shit anymore. Nobody cares, so why the hell should I care about the fact that I changed? Everyone else seems to like it."

He didn't understand how nobody seemed to care about what Sebastian felt like no more. If Hummel, as gay and annoying as he was, started to show up wearing jockey shorts and talking about forward passes and being on the offensive, even Sebastian would think it was weird, you know? Didn't it fucking worry nobody that here he was, sitting there in Warbler practice, okay with the fact that their performance was subpar? Did nobody give a shit about the fact that he hadn't been to lacrosse in weeks because he was sick of pretending that he actually liked it? His own parents didn't even seem to ask him about his games no more.

Did he seriously fuck up his relationship with his own parents this much? Did he fuck up his relationship with other people just because he was bitter about what his own boyfriend did to him? Sebastian wondered. Suddenly, his parents' lying didn't seem like such a big fucking deal and he felt like he was blowing this situation straight out of proportion.

"Smythe?" Hunter had called out to him. "Are you producing tears?" he asked, looking shocked.

"Look, it happens," Sebastian was embarrassed, sure, but he did this all the fucking time, so why should it be surprising? He rubbed his eyes and picked up his bag. He got to head to school, even though he was seriously late. "Anyway, I gotta go. I got some things to do and people to see," he thought he saw Blaine's car outside.

"Wait," Hunter placed his arms around Sebastian's shoulders. "You're not going to do nothing stupid, are you? This isn't your final fucking ode before you off yourself or something like that, right?"

"No, I ain't, Clarington," Sebastian replied, not sure what he felt about this. "I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth.

As he walked outside of the Thai restaurant, he saw Blaine sitting by his car. He didn't look like he was happy to see him. He was wearing one of those nice denim jackets, a little darker than the ones that Sebastian owned. He was wearing khakis, and a white shirt. He looked like he was picking him up before school.

Sebastian got into his car, feeling like he was suffocating. How the fuck did Blaine find himself a car as small as him?

Blaine didn't look like he was in the right mood, as he drove them away from the Thai place. His lips were pursed pretty tight and his eyes looked vacant, like he was only focusing on the road and little else. "What are you doing here?"

Sebastian didn't know why Blaine woke up on the wrong side of the bed too. Maybe it really was him.

He turned his head so that he was facing the window. He pursed his lips as tight as he could himself. "I had a fight with my dad," he admitted. "Can you take me to Dalton?"

Blaine looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm not driving you to Dalton. That's forever away." No sane person would. Dalton was a forty-minute ride, and he knew Blaine was coming from Westerville. "I'm driving you back to your place."

"Okay," Sebastian nodded his head. He felt his throat ache because he felt like he'd been on the verge of tears all day long. His fucking emotions were all over the damn place, and he was becoming seriously pathetic.

Only for a few _this turn_ or _that turn,_ the car ride was pretty silent. Blaine looked so pissed at him.

Sebastian tried to relax into Blaine's car, but he felt uncomfortable. His car was fucking small. He had his legs cramped, and he felt like a ginormous creature just for being a little taller than Blaine was. He wondered if Kurt Hummel fit into this car, or if it was just him. He didn't feel so good and his legs were cramping.

He didn't really engage in any conversation with Blaine. He was waiting for him to cool down, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen.

By the time that they were at Sebastian's flat, he didn't really want to leave. Sebastian thought about the conversation that he was going to have with his mom. Sydney was already in school. He thought about what his dad must've told his mom. Sebastian closed his eyes, trying to see if he could get to his room without talking to her somehow. He didn't really feel like doing nothing. He wasn't sleepy today, and it had been a long time since he had any free time that he didn't know what stuff he liked to watch, or what new music he liked to hear. He forgot what he used to do with his time.

"Are you going to go or do I have to carry your highness upstairs?" Blaine asked, gesturing towards the door. He didn't look like he was having a good day. "I got better things to do than be your personal chauffeur, Sebastian, believe it or not."

"Your boyfriend ain't happy about you driving me here, Blaine?" Sebastian stiffened in his seat.

"No, he's not," Blaine's knuckles were white on his steering wheel, but Sebastian was just kidding. He didn't actually think that Blaine told Kurt that he was dropping him off. He didn't even report that much to his own mom. "But like you actually care about what's going on with my relationship, Sebastian… beyond getting in my pants."

"That ain't fair, Blaine," Sebastian said softly. "I didn't call you because I wanted you to fight with Gay Face about you picking me up. I called because I just…today's been fucking shit. I just wanted to see a friend."

The hardness from Blaine's face had softened dramatically. "You see me as your friend?"

Sebastian smiled weakly. "We ain't friends?" he asked tenderly. He felt like he was fucking stupid. How could he be friends with a guy that he almost blinded just a few months ago? That had to be operated on because of him?

Blaine just shrugged. "I think things got confusing from between our texts and the slushie."

Sebastian thought that was confusing. Around Kurt, he made it seem like he was so over the slushie thing, like it didn't even bother him anymore and now, he was giving him mixed signals and telling him that they were friends but then the slushie thing happened. They were hanging out after. Didn't that automatically made them friends? Did Blaine have to hear it from Sebastian that he thought of him as a friend, or did he think he was just stringing him along all this time?

Sebastian just stared at his flat that he hated. He cleared his throat. "I don't buy it, Blaine," he needed a fucking acupuncture appointment to get his back to the same place that he was before. "I'm sorry, but we were seeing each other after the slushie thing, alright? We were going out together. Just yesterday, we fucking met for coffee after school. We _talked_. You're saying you didn't know we were friends? Or were you just entertaining me because you felt sorry for me?"

"I thought that…" Blaine looked like he just realised how weird the situation was. "I thought we were in the same circle of friends, but we weren't exactly friends, if you get me." What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Did he think that he was friends with his boyfriend? Kurt fucking Hummel hated him even more than ever now.

Sebastian just felt irritated. "Okay," he said but it wasn't okay. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Blaine."

"It's not like that," Blaine just defended. Sebastian figured that he was playing the blame game again, but he just felt so tired. He was swinging between this newly found sensitive little bitch that cried at every waking moment to being himself, and he was physically exhausted. He couldn't sleep right now. He was too tired to do anything. "Why are you like this?"

"You're the one that picked me up and accused me of getting in your pants," Sebastian said, opening the car door. He did feel bad about Blaine being late, by the way. "Do you need a fucking medal for that? How do you expect me to reply?"

Blaine just huffed and shook his head. "See you, Sebastian," he didn't know why he and Blaine weren't okay now.

"So, what now? We ain't friends no more?" Sebastian asked, and Blaine just stared at the steering wheel. "If we ever were?"

"I don't know what we are, Sebastian," Blaine honestly answered. Why the hell was that such a hard question to answer in the first place? Sebastian was under the impression that if you saw someone every few days, and had inside jokes with them, then you were friends with that person, right? You didn't need to sign a contract. "Look, it's hard because Kurt doesn't like you, okay? He thinks that you're plotting something or… I don't know. But he doesn't think that you're being honest and every time I spent time with you, it's like I'm testing our relationship. Do you know how that's like?"

Sebastian just stared at him vacantly. "You don't got to spend any time with me, Blaine," he said. "I don't want to divide your attention away from your boyfriend, but is that really a healthy fucking relationship? He don't trust you with me?"

"What do you know about healthy relationships?" Blaine asked him, raising an eyebrow. "You said your ex used to hit you."

Sebastian felt like the whole world froze over for a second. "He didn't but the fact that you fucking thought he did, and you asked me like that? Do you really think that fucking little of me, Blaine?" he said, his eyes hardening at him. Colton never physically hit him, not even when he was so drunk that he couldn't tell him from the fucking punching bag.

Blaine looked at him like he was surprised. "You… you said that he assaulted you."

"I didn't mean it like that," Sebastian said, clearing his throat. He felt like he was about to spring another fucking leak. It was taking him all of himself not to start bawling again. He wasn't about to correct himself. "But I regret ever saying anything. I regret every fucking meeting you, Anderson. And you tell your fucking boyfriend that I ain't interested in you no more. And we don't got to call each other anymore, okay? It shouldn't matter because we ain't even friends."

Blaine actually got out of his car and turned off his ignition. "Sebastian, look, I didn't mean it like that—"

"You fucking tell me off since this morning and tell me that we ain't real friends then you fucking unload all your relationship drama on me—which by the way, ain't even true no more," Sebastian's voice was unsteady, but he wasn't going to cry anymore. He was sick of crying in front of people, especially when they didn't give a shit. He was right all along. People were the fucking worst. He was even more miserable now than when he didn't have any friends, because at least then, he knew that nobody liked him. "I tell you that it ain't healthy that your boyfriend—sorry fiancé—is controlling your life like this, and you have the fucking balls to talk to me like that about my ex-boyfriend?"

Sebastian just shook his head. He was tired of dealing with people. Sebastian didn't want to think about all the plans that he got with the Warblers that were probably just humouring him too, you know? He was sick of this.

"Leave me alone, Blaine," Sebastian said, his hands shaking. "I'm sick of being everyone's pretend-friend. Everyone was so much fucking easier when I was just an asshole. At least then I knew why people didn't like me."

Blaine looked like he'd been slapped in the face. "Sebastian…" he looked tense. "Are-are you okay?"

Sebastian looked at him like he was about to lose it. "I've been telling you I'm not feeling great for fucking weeks. Why the fuck should you care now?" he said, feeling a little unsteady as he thought about walking all those flights of stairs. He forgot the copy of his keys into his dad's car, and he wasn't going to ask to buzz in. "You're going to be late to class."

Now that Sebastian was pissed, Blaine was following him around like a kicked puppy. What was he so damn sad about?

"Why aren't you in school?" was the first thing his mom said after Sebastian climbed up all those flights of stairs. "What is your friend doing here?" even his mom thought that Blaine was his friend.

He looked back at Blaine, who was blushing when Sebastian's mom called him that.

Sebastian was untying his Dalton tie and already taking off his blazer. He threw this on top of the couch, even though his mother was standing there and looked disgusted at him. Nathalie picked up his blazer and tie.

"Are you going to talk to me about what's going here, Sebastian? Do you want to explain to me why your father called me and told me that you had a fight?" Nathalie asked, looking like she wanted to also tell him off for throwing all his clothes around the house instead of throwing them in his hamper. "Do you really want to do this in front of your friend?"

"Why not?" Sebastian hissed coldly. "He already knows about the fucking divorce. Why should I give a shit?"

Nathalie just shook her head at him, like she was sick of him being like this. Sebastian was over caring about everyone else's emotions today. He just walked over to their kitchen and was rooting through their freezer for his pint of ice-cream. He cursed when he didn't see it, which meant that asshole Sydney ate it.

Speaking of Sydney... Sebastian then just reeled back a little bit and looked back at his mother. "When the fuck were you going to tell me that Sydney don't got asthma?" he sneered at her. "When were you going to tell me that he's pretty sick? When he dies?"

He didn't care if he got an audience. He was sure that Blaine couldn't keep up. Sebastian barely could as it was.

His mother dropped the blazer that she got in her arms, and she looked at him with a soft facial expression. "Sebastian, sweetie," she said, with that frosting-sweet tone of voice that got on his nerves. Why did she think that just by sounding like she could give him diabetes, she could blunt the goddamn situation? "You have to understand that you're just so…"

"Sensitive?" Sebastian scoffed, rolling his eyes. Yeah, he said that now, but he was crying all morning. "Sure."

Nathalie placed a hand on his arm, and he refused to meet her eyes because he knew that she was going to get him to admit that maybe, he really did got a problem. And the thing was he did. He was that kid that used to refuse to go to school because people were saying mean things to him. He was that kid that got an excuse for two years about why he couldn't do any sports just so he didn't have to change in front of all the other kids. No matter how tough he got or how many people he fucked, Sebastian was like that under all of that valour. His mom knew that, and he hated it.

"So, you're telling me you're not upset?" Nathalie asked, stroking his arm. Yeah, she knew just what to ask.

"Of course, I'm upset," Sebastian tried to sound pissed but he couldn't. This was his mom. She knew how to work him.

Nathalie looked at him with those soft eyes. "You know exactly why I did what I did," she said, and he just kept his face as passive and as emotionless as possible because he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction that she was right. "You had a really hard time in school, Sebastian—well, that was for the days where you actually went to school. Do you think that your childhood would've been any better if you knew about Sydney then? Do you think it'll turn out different?"

Sebastian honestly thought about this for a few seconds. "I don't know," he said. If he knew that Sydney was sick, he'd never have complained about how his parents seemed to give more of a shit about him… well, not as much.

If he knew that Sydney was sick, would it have stopped him from getting together with Colton? For that affection that he wanted so bad? Or would he still do that, even if he knew that Sydney was sick? To be honest, Sebastian couldn't see a reality where he wasn't charmed by Colton. He was older, smarter, and he could sniff out his sexuality in seconds. But who's fault was it that the situation with Colton got that bad? Was it his fault? His parents' fault? He didn't know.

"What if something happened to him?" Sebastian suddenly sounded out, looking at his mom with a serious expression. "If something happened to Sydney and he died, he'd have… you know, died thinking that all I cared about was myself."

Nathalie just gave him a watery smile and shook her head. "Sydney knew," she said. "He thought it was best for you too."

"It ain't fair, mom," Sebastian said. "It's like I'm living all alone, you know? It's like we got different problems. You bitch at me all the time because I don't talk about Colt. How the hell am I being any different than you?"

Sebastian wondered how fucking _sensitive_ he must have come across if his whole family agreed not to tell him about something like this. H

"I grew up thinking you liked him more than me because he was so damn sick and thin," Sebastian admitted. His mom looked horrified. "What the hell was I supposed to think? Why do you think I ended up with a guy like Colt in the first place?"

Sebastian felt his mom become uncomfortable. He got why she did what she did, but it didn't mean that he could just sit here and pretend like he agreed with what happened when he was a kid.

"Your friend, Sebastian," Nathalie realised, and Sebastian just rolled his eyes. He so didn't care about Blaine standing there, soaking up all this information about his home life. This was the same guy that heard his dad say that his parents were getting a divorce, and when he was drunk, he told him that he was assaulted. They acted like nothing happened, so why the hell should this matter now? Because they had a fight and Sebastian called him out on it?

His mom just cleared her throat again. "Go to your room. I'll fix you both something to eat." She didn't even ask Blaine why he wasn't at school or if he went to Dalton or nothing. She was so embarrassed by what she said in front of company.

Sebastian nodded his head. He led Blaine to his room, which he'd been to before. It wasn't anything special, and he didn't feel excited about showing off. His paint was peeling off the walls, and there were clothes all over the floor. He got papers on his desk that were half-written, and more condom boxes in his drawer than he did boxers. He shaved regularly and dyed his hair even more regularly so that he wasn't that gross dirty-blonde that Sydney was.

He stripped down to his navy-blue boxers, and didn't care if Blaine was looking at him.

Sebastian pulled up a pair of old striped pyjama bottoms, and then threw on an oversized blue t-shirt that he was sure didn't even belong to him. He sat at the edge of his bed. He got those socks on that used to be white but were greyer with time. He hated every single thing that he was wearing, and if his fourteen-year-old self could see him, he'd scoff.

"What are you still doing here, Blaine?" Sebastian said, placing a hand on his knee. He didn't feel so hot again.

Blaine didn't do anything for the first few seconds. "Is your family okay?" the second he asked that, he closed his eyes because he realised that had to be the dumbest fucking question in the planet. "I mean… I just…"

Sebastian stared at Blaine. "What do you want from me?" he said, sounding tired.

Blaine just stared back at him, like he was hoping that this was going to be the moment that Sebastian bore his soul to him, the moment that he told him exactly what he was thinking about. Sebastian's head was pounding, but not his usual morning headache nowadays. He didn't feel nauseous or puke. He just felt overwhelmed.

"I try to be your friend, but that's a no go," Sebastian said, staring at him. "Now, I told you that I don't want you to bother, you're sitting in my room, asking me about if my family is fucking okay… so I'm just gonna ask again: what do you want from me, Blaine?"

Blaine looked at him like Sebastian was asking a trick question. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I really screwed up."

"And what's with you trying to keep pinning all this crap on me from before? I told you I was over it," Sebastian was starting to feel his throat become swollen and his eyes become wet again. He was sick of crying. "Why the hell does nobody fucking believe me? I'm sick of the way that people look at me. I'm sick of everyone in this goddamned fucking world. I hate every gay guy that ever graced this fucking planet even more than the straight people do. You all act like you're so fucking understanding with your pitiful sob stories about how people misunderstand you because you're so different than everyone else. But nobody gets it. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of waiting for someone to get it because you don't actually care."

Sebastian really gave up. He really didn't want to talk to anyone anymore about anything. He didn't want to spend anymore time with people that were not gonna get him no matter how much he tried.

Blaine looked at Sebastian, shocked by his speech. "Hey," his voice was soft. "Sebastian, you can talk to me, you know."

"Now that I don't want to talk anymore, you're ready to listen?" Sebastian shook his head. He wasn't about to spill his life fucking story to anyone that wasn't in 100% of the way, and he couldn't guarantee that with anyone. "I'm tired, Blaine. I'm really tired. I don't want to play no more games anymore. It's so much easier when I didn't got no feelings."

Blaine sat down beside him, and Sebastian wanted to ignore how nice it was to have someone sit next to him.

"You were my first friend," Sebastian admitted. "Ever. You know, when we were texting, it was… it was nice."

"First friend ever?" Blaine might find that hard to believe, but he shouldn't. Sebastian was a tough kid to be friends with, even before he became a certified jackass. Sebastian just slowly nodded his head and stared back at the wall. Being a dick gave him his first ever friend, and it made him lose the same person too. So, where did he go from here?

Sebastian nodded his head. "How do you expect me to feel when you said that you feel like you ain't mine?"

Blaine inched a little closer to him and he was so close that he could feel how warm he was, and how comforting. There was just this thing about Blaine, even if he wasn't in love with him that was so comforting. He reached to hold onto Sebastian's shoulder. "Can we talk?" Blaine asked, and Sebastian wanted to tell him to fuck off, but all he could do was nod his head.


	11. Blaine and Sebastian Talk… Sort Of

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Eleven: Blaine and Sebastian Talk… Sort Of

* * *

A few minutes passed between them and Sebastian felt hot and uncomfortable. He was always hot, you know, but not this sweat-evapourating-from-his-body kind of hot, you know? He was shifting uncomfortably in his—well, not _his_—oversized blue shirt. If this was a romance novel, he'd have the most dazzling blue eyes that you ever saw in your life, but that belonged to Hummel and that blonde kid with trout-sized lips. All he got was greedy green like Karofsky and Clarington.

And come fucking on, who got calmed by the scent of grass? And Sebastian wasn't talking about no pot brownies either.

"Yeah?" Sebastian realised that he was holding in his breath just then. When Blaine asked if they could talk, he was starting to get dizzy from seventeen years' worth of expectations. Because he couldn't shake this feeling off that maybe, this was gonna be the time that someone finally helped him out the right way. "What do you wanna talk about, Blaine?"

Blaine looked like he was trying to choose the right words. "When you said that he assaulted you, what did you mean?"

"Colton?" Sebastian's shoulders just slumped, and he was so tired of all the fucking secrets. He was so tired of telling people and them flipping out. But the thought of his father's reaction this morning made him want to crawl into his bed and never come out ever again. "Look, Blaine, I already told my dad today and… it's the first time I told him. Even though it happened all those years back. Every time I tell someone, I feel like a piece of me is being ripped out of my fucking soul and I can't. I can't do it no more. I can't tell someone and have them dump me the next time I see them, fine? Not when it comes to this." It would crush him if Blaine just took it and left, like it didn't mean nothing.

He saw Blaine nod his head slowly, as if he was processing the words. "Okay," he said. "You can tell me."

Sebastian's hands were a little shaky, because he never told a friend before. Sure, he was sure that Dave probably could've guessed, and he did elude to it with Gay Face and Blaine. He wrapped his arms around himself and brought his knees up real close, because at least if things went wrong, he could box himself in. "I trust you, Blaine. Please don't…"

Blaine closed his eyes, and there was a moment of silence between them—or two. "That important, huh?"

"I don't know no more," Sebastian didn't even know if it was that important anymore. But he just shrugged and stared vacantly at the carpet in his room. All the decisions he'd made up to this moment were running through his head, and he didn't feel good. Suddenly, he could practically see the future coming to his life. Him coming clean and nobody believing him. His dad not bringing up what happened with Colton ever again. His mom marrying some guy that Sebastian never met and Sebastian throwing up so damn hard a few mornings from now that he'd start puking up arterial red.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak and then said, "What did your father do? When you told him about this?"

Sebastian felt himself relax a little. "Nothing," he said, despondent. He didn't know if his father even did as much as tell his mom. How could he tell her about this? It was so much easier to pretend that he didn't say anything. It was so much easier for them to pretend that they didn't got issues they should've worked out three years ago.

Realisation dawned on Blaine and he looked a little sick. "When you say assault, you don't mean sexually, do you?"

"Yeah, I do," Sebastian replied back, defeated. He refused to meet Blaine's eyes, because how could you really tell someone? Did it make him a fucking attention seeker for telling him this? How did other people manage to let others know? Should he just tell Blaine and not be pissed when somehow, the whole of the Nude Erections knew the next time?

Blaine paused to recollect his thoughts. "Did he… did he…?" he gestured towards Sebastian's body. "You know?"

"Yeah," Sebastian responded back softly. "Look, I wasn't even fucking conscious. And I'm the easiest fucking person in the world. I don't get why he couldn't just wake me up or—or wait another fucking hour…" he didn't think he could explain that so easy. Was it really rape if there was a chance he would've consented if he was awake?

In his head, he'd been telling himself it was rape for years. The dirty feeling hadn't gone away since. How was it fair that he was the one that felt disgusting if that guy was the one that fucked him over? It wasn't fucking fair.

"I still don't get why he did that," Sebastian said. "Do you know how easy I fucking am? I just…" his voice trailed off.

The whole situation made Sebastian feel a little sick. Like how little did you have to think about someone before you decided that it was okay to do that to them? Sebastian had just started drinking lots, you know? At that point where you were doing it for fun because you had other people around to make you have a good time. He passed out from how drunk that he was, and the next thing he knew it, he got someone tugging at his pants. Even when he was mostly fucking comatose, he tried to push him away before Sebastian lost consciousness. That was enough to mean no, yeah? It was fucking implied by the fact that there wasn't any fucking way that he was enjoying sex if he was unconscious.

Now that he mentioned it out loud like that, it felt stupid. It wasn't exactly the most horrifying thing that happened to anyone, right? But he still couldn't get over it. Sebastian was still shook up over how this could've been fucking consensual—so easy too. But just because that jerk couldn't wait for him to wake up, Sebastian got to live with these thoughts for the rest of his life. And he didn't want to think about it. It was easier just to wash it down with a bottle of cognac, trashy TV and trashier people.

"I don't get why either," Blaine looked like he stopped breathing. "Besides your dad, am I the only one that…?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I think Dave knows but I didn't tell him," he didn't meet Blaine's eyes. He could remember the way that Dave defended him. He missed talking to Dave, even though it had just been two or three days. "Blaine, look, I don't know if this sounds like a big deal to you but it's a big deal to me. I…" he didn't say anymore.

"I am _so_ sorry, Sebastian," Blaine sounded like he really was. "God, I…of course it's a big deal. You were…"

"Yeah, I was? You think?" Sebastian wasn't so sure anymore now. "Look, when it was in my head, things were so damn clear but now that it's out, it doesn't sound that bad."

Blaine looked alarmed when he heard Sebastian say this, and he shook his head vehemently. "I don't know about you, Sebastian, but there's no person on Earth that could consent when they were black out drunk," Sebastian rolled his eyes because he didn't tell him that he was passed out drunk. Blaine just concurred—correctly, Sebastian might add on, but he didn't want to say anymore about it. "You didn't used to drink before you met him, right? Or did you?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I used to be like your fiancé," he said. "I used to…I still…" he stammered. "Let me show you."

"Show me?" Blaine asked, and he moved to where Sebastian gestured him to sit down. "What is all this?"

Sebastian opened his oversized drawer and felt like he was unveiling a secret. Instead of million-karat diamonds and beautifully cut rubies, he got more makeup than a fucking Sephora. He could probably slather on enough layers of concealer to save all the pizza faces in Ohio with the quantity of shit that he had. It was almost embarrassing that he had bought the same natural, organic palettes with literally just a shade difference in each one. He looked like he was starting his own fucking mini salon and Sebastian felt himself let out a breath he'd been holding in ever since.

His whole room looked like a fucking tornado just wandered through it, but his makeup drawer was pristine.

"You know how to use this stuff?" Blaine asked, looking a little overwhelmed. "All of it?"

Sebastian snorted, and then nodded his head. "And more," Sebastian scoffed. He had perfected all his basic skills down to a tee. Hell, Sebastian cut and dyed his own hair because he didn't trust anyone else's hands. He knew how to cake on face paint that could make you look like you were fucking Photsohopped. "What's it to you, Anderson? You don't like it?"

Blaine looked like he was thinking about it. "Can you?" he gestured to it. "I want to see how you…"

"Yeah," Sebastian replied, but he couldn't help the steely feeling in his stomach, telling him that something was gonna go wrong. He ignored that feeling and spent forty-five minutes doing what he did best: constructing his face. His moisturizer bottle was still mostly full and smelled like a memory that he'd forgotten about. The feeling of the sponge in his hand was more familiar than anything else he'd felt in the world. Sebastian had never felt as exposed as he did right then. He'd been staring at his mirror, but aware that Blaine was watching everything that he did.

After he was done, he felt his heartbeat about a million times faster. He felt like himself for the first time in years. From his perfectly made eyebrows that had more attitude than even Gay Face to his very individualistic swoops of blush, bronzer and highlighter across his skin, Sebastian felt exhilarated and happy. Like he'd just had the world's best orgasm and was still coming off from that fucking high. And did you know how many actual orgasms Sebastian had in his life?

"Wow," Blaine looked breathless. He moved to cradle his face, and Sebastian felt his heart racing in his chest. "You look so..."

"Blaine?" Sebastian didn't like the way that he was looking at him. Sydney looked at Darla like that for fuck's sake.

A second in and Sebastian was being kissed by _Blaine fucking Anderson_. It didn't feel fucking magical like it was supposed to be. It felt like it was timed wrong. It didn't feel so good. All he could think about was Gay Face when he was kissing him, and as comforting as Blaine was, Sebastian didn't feel so good having him suck on his lip like this.

And for those reasons alone, Sebastian broke off the kiss. He noticed the look of surprise on Blaine's face. "Sebastian, what are you—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Anderson?" Sebastian's voice rung so loud it practically bounced off the walls. _So much for it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you_. "Aren't you getting married to Gay Face? You know, as in becoming spouses? As in you wouldn't be prancing around, making out with a guy that almost blinded you a few months back?"

Sebastian sighed deeply. "At least fucking ask before you attack my fucking mouth," he hissed coldly.

Blaine inched back a little, like he was juts sobering up. "I just thought that…" he paused. "God, Sebastian, I'm so sorry."

"You thought I wanted a kiss after I just told you about being raped? Seriously, Blaine?" Sebastian asked him. This was the worst-timed kiss in his life. "I didn't tell you about that because I want you to feel sorry about my fucked-up love life. I told you because you're my fucking friend and I just needed someone to talk to."

Sebastian sighed. "Why the hell are you still reading me wrong even after everything I told you? I warned you not to fuck this up. _I warned you_," he was so damn vulnerable, and Sebastian felt just about as used as he always. "For fuck's sake, Blaine… I told you one of my biggest fucking secrets ever and you turned it into a fucking joke. Do you know how big of a deal this was for me? To tell someone about this? I told you that I needed you to handle this delicately but…"

Sebastian just kept shaking his head. "If I wanted to be slobbered on like that so damn bad, I'd get a dog," he said bitterly.

Blaine looked surprised, as if he really didn't believe Sebastian when he said that he was looking for a friend. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, whatever," what the hell was Sebastian going to do with his sorry exactly? Blaine could shove it up his ass.

A few months ago, yeah, it would've been a scam. Sebastian would've told him that they were friends but, in his mind, he was hoping that they could practice their oral skills in his bed. Because Gay Face didn't expect him to be any better, so why the hell should he try to be better, you know? But now, he didn't feel like he deserved to ruin Gay Face's life just because his felt so fucked up and unstable. Even if Hummel listened to his dad talk about the divorce like this.

"Are… are you going to tell Kurt about this?" Blaine asked softly, not sure what to say. He looked broken and defeated.

"What do you think? And like he'd fucking blame you if I tell him," Sebastian spat out coldly. He knew that Blaine didn't know what to expect from him, but of course, he was telling the Gay Face about it. "He'd think I fucking seduced you with my super sad fake story about my poor tragic fucking life. Appealed to your sweet, gracious fucking heart. Come on, Blaine… what fucking reason did he have for believing that _you_ were the one that came onto me?"

"He'd be wrong about you," Blaine said, looking like he was finally being careful with his words. A little too damn late.

Sebastian snorted, laughing bitterly. "Everyone's wrong about me," he said. "I fuck up once and everyone's at my door, waving fucking pitchforks at me. But everyone else can fuck up as much as they want with no repercussions. Do you know how much easier it was for me before? When I didn't got any fake ass _friends?_ Do you know?"

Blaine was about to hold his hand but resisted. Good for him. "Hey, you're a good person," he said.

"Great!" Sebastian clapped his hands, making Blaine jump up from his seat. "That's my life fucking purpose. To be a good person. What the fuck am I gonna do with that? Nobody thinks I'm a good person. Everyone thinks I'm a selfish, self-absorbed dickwad."

"I'm so sorry, Sebastian," Blaine's voice was almost a whisper. "I don't blame you for not wanting to talk to me again. I don't blame you for being so pissed off about everyone. You don't deserve to get dragged into my drama with Kurt and Kurt has no right to be a dick just because you used to like me about a million years ago. Obviously, that's not the case anymore—and I don't blame you. I misjudged you so damn much… not just once, or twice but…"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah," he felt his throat become more swollen. "You fucking did. And like fuck I can get avoid being dragged in with your bullshit romantic drama now that you planted one on me, Blaine!"

"I know. I'm sorry," Blaine repeatedly said again. That made everything better, right? "Look, I should just go—"

"You're not going nowhere," Sebastian stood up. Blaine owed him a ride. Hell, Blaine owed him more than a fucking ride. "I need you to drive me to Dave's house. Sydney took my fucking car since Dad was driving me."

"You want me to drive you?" Blaine looked surprised. His gorgeous hazel eyes widened. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm gonna walk over there," he said sarcastically. "All fifteen fucking miles."

Blaine nodded his head. "Hey, are you going to tell Dave too? Even after the way that I… mishandled things?" Blaine asked, and then he got no right to ask what Sebastian did with his fucking life. "Sorry, Sebastian. It's not in my place."

"You're right. It's not in your fucking place. It's none of your goddamn business," Sebastian replied. "But I got to tell him. It's not right."

He could tell that Blaine didn't agree, but like he was the one that was making the choice now, right? What was another fucking person that didn't deal with it in the right way? Sebastian was just sick of it. He didn't want the drama to unfold. He didn't trust Blaine to not tell Kurt—even if it was by accident. He didn't want Dave to find out from someone else.

"Okay," Blaine nodded his head. "I'm sorry, Sebastian," every time he said it, it sounded more truthful. "I wish I can take back what I just did. It was wrong of me. I was taking advantage of you. You were in a really vulnerable position and I had no fucking right to do that. Especially after what you just said. I didn't even ask if you wanted to…"

"Yeah," Sebastian felt his shoulders slumped. He already forgave him. Why was he so damn weak-willed? "Fine, okay."

What the fuck was wrong with him? Where was his fucking spine? His backbone? Why couldn't he look at Blaine in the face and tell him that this wasn't something that he could forgive so easy? Why did he forgive him?

Sebastian felt like his worth was next to nothing. Like anyone could walk all over him. Why should they care?

"Fine, okay _what?_" Blaine didn't look like he understood what was going on in Sebastian's head. Join the fucking club.

"I forgive you," Sebastian said, and Blaine's eyes just widened even more. Like he didn't expect him to ever say that.

Blaine didn't look like he was okay with Sebastian forgiving him in the same fucking hour. "You can't be serious," he said softly. "Sebastian, this isn't right. You can't forgive me."

"Why should I treat me right if nobody else does?" Sebastian spat back at Blaine, feeling his hands shake. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about nothing no more. I wish I kept my mouth fucking shut."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Blaine just stiffened. "Can I just…?" he had his arms out, like he was about to hug him.

"Fine, whatever." Sebastian just rolled his eyes and pulled his arms out. Blaine walked towards him and hugged him so tightly that Sebastian felt like his ribs were about to crack. He was suddenly aware of the smell of Blaine's coconut shampoo and how warm and soft his jacket felt like. It wasn't at all like the jean jackets that Sebastian usually wore.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian," Blaine said again, slowly rubbing his back. "I'd be honoured if you'd be my friend… for real."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Blaine's back. "Screw you, Blaine," he said. It hurt to laugh. "Screw you."

"I'm on your side now," Blaine said soothingly. "I promise," his voice was softer than the sex that Gay Face liked.

"Huh. I'll believe that when I see it," Sebastian said. Blaine could look hurt and puppy-dog-eyed all he wanted, but Sebastian wasn't budging. He wasn't believing anyone anymore. Why the hell should he?

He didn't owe Dave the truth just because he stood up for him. He didn't owe Dave anything, just like how it was supposed to be. He just wanted to tell him. Hell, he wanted to tell him more than he wanted to tell his mom or Sydney. More than he'd wanted to tell all those therapists that he'd seen before. Even more than he wanted to tell Blaine. Sebastian felt like if Dave knew, then maybe things were going to be okay after, you know? Maybe he was going to say the right stuff.

He went and changed. Too tight black jeans and a white hoodie that was way too big on him. He wiped the makeup off.

He used to have a fucking life. He used to be excited for this stuff. He used to stay up all night mixing shades and trying out new things, always trying to make himself look a little better than usual. He thought that by the time that he got to his age, he'd got a secure look that could make fucking dolphins swim out of water just to take a look at him. If his fourteen-year-old self would see him now—in clothes that he hated, retreating back into his shell, he'd be thoroughly disgusted. Just like Gay Face was disgusted every time that Sebastian told him off for looking like a Pygmy Puff gone rogue.

Sebastian didn't feel like himself when he walked out of the room and saw Blaine sitting there, looking ashamed. Good.

They sat into the car for a while and Sebastian was changing the stations. He settled on a song by The Beatles that was playing, even though he didn't like this song. He still liked the Beatles more than he did whatever Blaine had been playing on his last station, you know? Blaine was singing and it was hard not to join in. Especially when the music went straight through him and made his world look a lot clearer than usual. Sebastian felt a whole lot better about himself, and neither of them actually talked about it. That was the beauty of being in show choir, you know?

Sometimes, he listened back to some of the songs and he hated how he said certain words or wished he could skip some part leading up to the chorus but there were times, he'd listen back and everything was perfect. And he could almost imagine being there in that moment that he felt like everything was so goddamned fucking perfect.

When Sebastian got to Dave's house, he felt this steely feeling at the pit of his stomach because he forgot to actually tell Dave that he was dropping by. Sebastian had a whole fucking car ride to tell him, but he didn't.

Telling Blaine to stay put, Sebastian got up and walked towards the door. What was he going to say? That he had life-shattering news to tell him before anyone else heard it? That he appreciated that he was being such a good friend? That Sebastian was so sorry that he'd been ignoring his messages, but he didn't want to get too close to someone like this?

When he knocked on the door, Dave opened the door. He expected him to be pissed, but he wasn't.

"Hey there, stranger," Dave said with a weak smile on his face. Sebastian smiled back and it was a real smile too. Dave cleared his throat, placing a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. He was still in his school clothes and still got his book bag slung back. It was just half an hour past when school should've ended, and Sebastian felt his stomach churn. He was queasy.

"You look good," he said, and he sounded like he meant it too. Like Sebastian was the prettiest fucking face ever.

"You don't look bad yourself," Sebastian said, feeling himself grow stiff. "Hey, can I…can I talk to you about something?"

"Anything," Dave said, opening the door up. Sebastian just felt so welcomed in his house. He felt like he could tell Dave whatever came to his mind. A few minutes after he sat down on the couch, Dave came back with a tray. It was the nicest thing ever. It got mini butter croissants and three cups of coffee. He noticed that he had a mug with an _S_ on it. They were just laughing about it last time they went to go furniture shopping together, but he actually bought it for him.

Dave handed over the coffee to him ."Here's your sugar piss," he said, and Sebastian snorted. "Look, Kurt is here."

"Thank you for my grand introduction," with his backpack and school shoes, Kurt sat down across from Sebastian. He grabbed a cup, took a sip and gagged. "What is in this?"

"A pile of sugar with a little coffee thrown in," Dave smiled at Sebastian. Their little secret. Sebastian was glad Dave didn't know how Kurt liked his coffee. "You like it?"

"Would've gone so well with your deep-fried tomato sandwich," Sebastian snorted, remembering the Sal's Sub incident.

Dave, who also heard about it, was full-on laughing right now. Kurt just glared at him, because he obviously didn't like people laughing at him. Well, if he didn't, then he should stop acting so theatrical all the damn time. "Is that Blaine outside?" Kurt suddenly noticed from the window. Sebastian shuddered. What a stalker. "What is he doing here?"

"He dropped me off," Sebastian realised this was veering to make-out confessions. "What are you doing with Dave?"

"He's my friend," Kurt said, eying him. If Kurt started right now, Sebastian was going to hit him. He didn't care who saw or if Dave didn't defend him or if Blaine came rushing in like the knight in shining armor, Sebastian couldn't stand Kurt fucking Hummel right about now. "What is Blaine doing here?"

"He's my friend," Sebastian replied back with the same air of arrogance.

"A friend that's waiting for you in his car while you sit here, drinking coffee with Dave? A friend that ditched a serious test to take you back to your house?" Kurt asked and Sebastian was trying so hard not to punch him in the face. He was sick of Kurt talking. How could one guy like the sound of himself talking so much? "You're a great friend, Sebastian."

"I learn from the best," Sebastian spat out icily. "And he's atoning for his fucking sins after he planted one on me a few hours back." Yeah, he should've broken the news a little gently, but Kurt was pissing him off.

Right after he said that news, Dave's eyes bulged out of their sockets and Kurt looked like the world's most abused puppy dog. _Get real_, Sebastian thought. He knew that Kurt was going to play the victim now, and he wasn't going to let him. And if Dave didn't back him, that was okay. But Dave didn't know the full story. He didn't know what made Blaine plant one on him.

"Do you honestly have no fucking shame?" Kurt said, putting the mug down. Coffee splashed around everywhere. "Do you honestly want me to believe that Blaine, without any prompting from your slimy meerkat hands, kissed you?"

"Sebastian snorted. "What exactly am I supposed to be ashamed of? The fact that _he_ made a move on me?"

"Kurt, come on," Dave's voice was as smooth as silk. "He said that Blaine planted one on him."

"Like I believe that," Kurt said coldly. "What's wrong with you? You don't know the story but you're already on his side."

"You don't either but you're already not," Dave replied back just as easily.

"I don't understand this," Kurt looked like he was completely dumbfounded. "Saint Sebastian can't do anything fucking wrong anymore since after he apologised for nearly blinding my boyfriend. My own friends that have known me for years have turned against me because they think I'm being unfair to an asshole that believes that he's above everyone's help. I get shit from people I love because I have trouble believing that a raging alcoholic is sick from anything other than the things that he'd been drinking by the gallon and suddenly, _I'm_ the bad guy? Excuse me?"

Sebastian was trying to keep his jaw wired. Seriously? Kurt thought that everyone was on his side?

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked when Sebastian stood up, putting his mug down. "About to call out your supporters?"

"Fuck off," Sebastian hissed coldly at him. "If you don't believe me, then maybe you'll believe your _fiancé_. But I doubt that you will because you can't see past your fucking ass."

He got up and stormed out to the car where Blaine was sipping a Red Bull.

"What—" before Blaine could say anything, Sebastian gestured for him to come out like he was a fucking lapdog.

"Your fucking boyfriend won't believe me," Sebastian sounded bitter. He was so damn bitter. He was so angry, and he didn't know where to put all this angry at anymore. "Didn't I tell you that this was going to happen, Blaine? That I was going to tell him the truth and he'd be convinced I lured you into my bed and made out with you?"

"You already told him?" Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat, putting his energy drink down. "I kind of wanted to tell him myself."

"Like Kurt gave me a lot of options," Sebastian mumbled. "And I already told you I'd tell him, right? If you didn't want me to, you wouldn't have kissed me in the first fucking place."

"Yeah...I guess. It's just that...well, Kurt's really sensitive and I wanted to break the news easy," Blaine looked uncomfortable sitting there. "I'll come with you. I'll tell him the truth."

Sebastian felt bad for telling Kurt when Blaine said that he was going to tell him. If Blaine told Kurt, then the blow would be easier. Nobody deserved to hear that your fiancé cheated on you like that, not even Gay Face. And even if Blaine and him got off the wrong foot just a few hours ago, it wasn't like Sebastian was helping by treating Blaine like his little puppy.

Blaine was even more unnerved when he walked into the house. When he saw Kurt, his fiancé just glared at him. "Hey, Kurt," Blaine said softly. "I'm sorry that you heard about it like this."

"Heard about what like this?" Kurt asked. "Are you seriously just here to collaborate _his_ story now that everyone's on his side?"

"Kurt, I…" Blaine didn't look great right then. Sebastian watched him sit down and clutch his stomach like he was queasy. And for drinking an energy drink on an empty stomach? Sebastian couldn't really fault that. "I took advantage of him. I kissed him. He was talking to me, telling me about something that's sensitive and I just…I did the opposite of what he told me to do. It was selfish and I understand that if you want to break up what we have, it's…I'm sorry. To both you and to Sebastian too. It's not fair."

"_You_ took advantage of _Smythe?"_ Kurt looked back at Sebastian with a hard expression. "That's pretty much impossible."

"Kurt," Blaine's eyes really hardened. "You really don't know, okay? You wouldn't have said that if you knew," he said, his voice trembling.

"Knew what?" Kurt stood up, and Sebastian felt his heart pound. "That you all seemingly managed to gang up on me? That everyone is somehow in love with Sebastian fucking Smythe? Do you have any idea how much grief he caused? Do you think that I believe that he really changed? Don't you see that he's obviously plotting something? We were fine before, and then he just had to come in!"

Kurt turned to Sebastian and he was really zeroing in on him. "What did you tell him about that made him feel like he should kiss you, Sebastian?" and Sebastian was sick of hearing himself be degraded like this. "Did you tell him that despite the fact that you whore yourself to everyone that you've never had a really good kiss?"

Sebastian's jaw tightened. He moved to shove Kurt back, and then he was met with a swing. Kurt hit him so hard that Sebastian couldn't see straight for a few seconds.

"Hey," Dave held Kurt's wrist back and looked at him with hard eyes. "What the fuck did you just do to him?"

"I don't believe anything either of you said," Kurt's hands were shaking, in fists. "Why are you protecting him? Why can't you just tell me the truth?"

_"KURT!"_ Blaine shrieked. "Look, he wasn't lying about what happened. He told me that—"

Sebastian fell backwards, not feeling that great. He saw zagging lights in front of his eyes. He could see Dave's lightbulb going on and off the next few seconds. When was he going to get that light fixed? Sebastian didn't notice before.

"Told you what?" Kurt asked hotly. "What did he tell you that was so bad that you felt like you could kiss him? Did he mention how sad he was now that his own parents don't want to spend anymore time with him anymore?" Sebastian felt those words hard. It was like a sword stabbed him straight in the heart.

"No, Kurt, he didn't," Blaine was hyperventilating. "He told me that he was raped, okay?"

Kurt looked thrown back, and he stared at Sebastian. He looked like he wanted to ask him if it was true, but remorse dawned on him. "What?" his voice was soft.

"He told us that about him being assaulted, remember? When he was drunk..." Blaine whispered. "He meant this, Kurt. That's why he got so pissed that time we were in the Lima Bean with Mercedes."

"How fucking dare you?" Dave hissed coldly, looking like he was about to punch Blaine. "He told you that in fucking confidence. What gave you the right to tell someone else about it?"

"Sebastian?" Blaine looked at him, looking about as pale as ever. "Hey, you're really quiet over there. Are you okay?"

Sebastian's head felt heavy. Did Blaine really say that? Or did Sebastian make it up in his head that he said that? He didn't really know, because all Sebastian could see were the lights. He placed his hand on his chest. It was hard to breathe…and then the next ten minutes were a blur.

All he remembered was that he must've lost consciousness before he woke up, feeling drowsy and tired.

"Hey, Seb," Blaine's voice was so soft, and Sebastian's heart thudded ten times faster.

Sebastian forgot about the fight for the first few seconds when he'd been awake until he saw that even Hummel was leering over him, looking pale. Sebastian realised that he wasn't in Dave's house anymore, he was in a car. He didn't know what car, and he didn't know that Dave was there either because he closed his eyes the second he opened them.

_"Hmm?"_ Sebastian asked, feeling his throat hurt and then he turned to the side and fell right back asleep.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Blaine moved to hold Sebastian's hand in his own and squeezed it as hard as he could. As if that was going to make him feel any better. It did, by the way. "Sebastian, I'm so sorry. I told them. I had to. I just…"

"You had no fucking right to," Dave said, and he sounded as cold as a Popsicle in snow. "It wasn't your fucking secret."

"I really fucked up, Sebastian," Blaine's voice was soft. "I really, really fucked up."

Sebastian couldn't open his eyes. He felt like they were almost glued shut. He had never felt tired before and he wondered if this was how people felt like before they were going to croak, you know? Did Sydney ever feel like this, when he was in the hospital all by himself? Did he ever wonder why Sebastian hated him so damn much? Fuck, this was horrible.

Sebastian could feel like they were moving, but he didn't know who's car it was. Was it Gay Face's?

Blaine's voice was unsteady. "Sebastian, do you have epilepsy? Did you ever have a seizure before? Did you…?"

"No," Sebastian didn't understand what the fuck Blaine was talking about. Why the hell would he ask him if he ever had a seizure? Sebastian was sure he'd remember if he ever had one. He was so damn tired. "Why?" he asked in a hoarse voice. The last thing that Sebastian remembered was feeling how warm and reassuring Blaine's hand was before he fell back asleep.


	12. Sydney and Sebastian in the ER

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Twelve: Sydney and Sebastian in the ER

* * *

Sydney knew that something was very wrong when he walked into his house and he saw his mom crying, like not the weeping that she did when she was fake crying because she wanted her dad to feel bad. No, the full on snot and red cheeks kind of crying that she did when she heard that someone she loved from France croaked.

He was not having a good day. He and Darla broke up last night after going out for years because she was into this vegan guy that had more tattoos on his arm than Sebastian had in his fucking body.

"Sydney," Nathalie's eyes softened when she saw him walk into the room. "Come here, baby, we have to talk…"

"I don't want to talk," Sydney hissed back, feeling his chest ache. "This is about Sebastian, isn't it? It's _always_ about him."

When Nathalie nodded her head slowly, Sydney just snorted. "He can go fucking screw himself," he said. But he already got plenty of people lining up to sleep with him. Sydney just scoffed at the thought. Sebastian was such a damn tool.

"Hey, you don't mean that," Jean had the gentlest tone ever, as he patted on the couch. "I have something to—"

"Save it," Sydney cut him off. Ever since he and Darla broke up, Sydney had been a fucking asshole to everyone. "Do you have any idea how much better our lives would be if we didn't have to worry about him all the time? I know I'm physically sick but at least I help myself. But with poor, poor discriminated gay Seb, it's like he _wants_ to be miserable forever."

Jean's lips pursed into a tight line and he shook his head. "You better not talk to him if that's your attitude."

Sydney scoffed. "The girl I've been dating since I was a kid left me for some dickwad, and all you care about is that Sebastian is drinking so much that he pukes up every goddamn morning," he hissed. "Throw him in a hospital. He'll feel so much better surrounded with all the other middle-aged alcoholics that also peaked when they were fourteen."

"This is not the goddamn time, Sydney," Jean said, as Nathalie sneezed into a tissue. "Go to your room and cool down."

"Why don't you fucking tell Sebastian to cool the fuck down?" Sydney spat out, his hands shaking. "When he comes back home, I'm gonna tell let him have it. Like he fucking deserves for making my whole goddamn life fucking miserable."

"I'd like to see you try," Jean said stiffly. "Don't you dare talk to him. I mean it, okay? Don't say a goddamn word."

He just didn't see the point anymore of being so happy. It wasn't like anyone cared about what he said. All they cared about was his grades and the fact that he was nice enough to consider Sebastian's _feelings_ about everything in the fucking planet. His whole childhood was centred around almost dying and his parents treating Sebastian like a precious baby that couldn't ever know that Sydney would croak if he never got a double-lung transplant. He felt the years of anger finally ready to burst. He told Sebastian off this morning for taking too long in the shower, and he threw out Sebastian's new clothes that was sitting in his car just because he felt pissed about how Sebastian never fucking bought anything for anyone other than himself.

_What a selfish prick_, Sydney kept on thinking. He felt sick driving past Hal's Subs when he came back home. He was ready to throw a fit and wanted to drop out of school because his grades were so bad.

Sydney didn't know what his future held. Darla telling him she hoped that he found happiness? Minimum wage? Maybe he'd get so damn sick that they'd finally get him that double-lung transplant they'd always been talking about.

Sydney was pissed about everything that happened in his life. From the fact that he had to spend his childhood in hospitals to the fact that nobody cut him slack for what he had to go through every damn day. His teachers had a hard time understanding that when you spend most of your life in a hospital, you miss out on stuff like school and friends. Every morning, he was forced to drink that chalky Ensure crap just so he'd stay not dead-looking. He was forced to do PE just because he liked to play football, even when he was feeling breathless and like crap. He had to pretend that it didn't phase him that Sebastian only cared about his fucking self when he heard about how Sydney had been really sick all these years.

Now, his parents were weeping all over Sebastian and his problems. Sydney was sick of hearing about his brother.

When he saw that Sebastian was calling him, he didn't hesitate to answer him. "Hey, Syd—" Sydney cut him off.

"Screw you, Sebastian," Sydney said hotly, his whole body trembling. Sydney's grades were so bad that he didn't think that he'd make it through the year. This was his second time repeating the same goddamn grade. Meanwhile, Sebastian over there, getting into the honour roll and moaning about how he was so sad and alone. Nobody got what he was going through, as he dug himself into his own miserable black hole. "What the fuck are you calling me for? Aren't you done making mom and dad cry about you? Do you want me to shed my precious fucking tears for you too?"

"What's wrong with you?" Sebastian's voice sounded groggy, like he just woke up from a nap. "Mom and dad are _crying?_ About me? Are you serious?"

Sebastian was asleep so much that Sydney was amazed that he hadn't croaked in his sleep or something. What was that from anyway? It wasn't like he was taking hardcore sedatives. If he was a junkie now too, he'd seriously lose it.

"Ha. Of course I'm serious. They're always fucking crying about how their precious Sebastian is in pain," Sydney hissed coldly over the phone. "Do you know that my whole childhood was about you? Do you know how many times I nearly died, and all mom cared about is that you'd never know about it? My own fucking girlfriend of years broke up with me last night and all mom and dad are doing right now is crying over you. Why the hell am I so goddamn surprised? What did you _do_, Sebastian?"

"I'm sorry," Sebastian replied back in a scratchy tone. "Look, I'll just...I guess I'll just go, okay? I didn't know I was making such a goddamn fuss." And then the line went dead.

Why the hell did he call him for anyway? What was so damn important that he had to call him right now after he treated him like dirt this morning?

Sydney threw his phone on the bed, and then stormed out of the room. He bumped straight into his father, who was standing there looking at him with the coldest, hardest eyes that he could. "Did you call him?" Jean asked.

"No, _he_ called me," Sydney replied back mockingly. "And I told him exactly what I thought about him."

Jean's face was hard, as he grabbed Sydney by his arm and then dragged him to the living room. Sydney was still a pretty thin guy, even after he tried to put on weight. He was almost too thin on numerous occasions. Hell, even with Sebastian losing weight recently by going on his diet of tequila and tears, he didn't look as bad as Sydney did.

"Why are you like this?" Sydney groaned, shaking his head. "Why can't you just leave me alone, Dad? Why…?"

"Colton raped Sebastian three years ago," Jean said. "He told me today… I think he just got sick of keeping it a secret."

"What?" Sydney felt his whole world turn darker than ever. He turned his head around so that he was looking at his father, and then felt the weight of the words that he said fully hit him in the face. He'd spent the whole damn day hating everyone in his family, feeling like there was no injustice that was worse to his own. Suddenly, all Sydney could think about was fourteen-year-old Sebastian sitting there in his room all alone, barely eating and barely sleeping. He thought about Sebastian's identity being stripped away, until he was wearing oversized jeans that he hated and the same hoodie for three days. He thought about how Sebastian was choking back all that booze as if it was going to help him.

"He didn't tell anyone?" Sydney asked and Jean just shook his head. "Shit, Dad… I…I don't mean what I said about him. I didn't mean what I said _to_ him. I..."

Sydney felt suddenly hot. He unzipped his black jacket and threw it on the chair. His mom didn't care.

"I know, Syd," Jean said and then cleared his throat. "What did you tell him?"

"What _didn't_ I tell him?" Sydney replied back with a watery smile. He felt even worse than ever. "Oh God, Dad. I fucked up so damn bad."

Sydney felt sick thinking about what he just told Sebastian. To Sebastian, Sydney probably just told him off for his parents crying about the fact that he just told him that he was raped. That was the most fucked up thing that Sydney could think of saying. He doubted that his dad handled it with grace either. Sebastian was a no-show today and it was five in the afternoon. Hell, he didn't blame Sebastian if he never talked to him again.

"Look, I'm sure that Sebastian knows that you didn't mean it," Nathalie said softly. Why wasn't she pissed at him?

"Look, Syd, I'm sorry about what happened with you and Darla," Jean sounded like he meant it. Sydney didn't want to hear anything nice from his dad right now, especially not after what he said. What if Sebastian was alone some place and he wanted to pick him up? What if that stupid asshole was in a bar right now? "Syd, what did he call you for?"

"I don't know," Sydney honestly said, feeling a little queasy. "I'll call him back, Dad... maybe he wants me to pick him up, or something."

Fucking hell. Sebastian was just a kid when it happened. No wonder that he was so damn depressed now. How did you get over that all by yourself? Even if you got therapy and a pill to swallow to try and take away your damn sorrow?

Suddenly, it made so much sense why Sebastian was the way that he was. Because his parents weren't there and Sydney couldn't get that out of him, but he bet that all that booze was there. All that sex. All Sydney could think about was what if Sebastian thought he'd feel better about what happened if he just had more sex? With a lot more people? Sydney felt seriously grossed out, thinking about how little Sebastian thought about himself if he was sleeping with just anyone.

As Sydney called back, he felt his heart hammer in his chest. His fingers were numb, and he was sweating.

_"Hmm?"_ Sebastian sounded like he'd just woken up from his sleep. Did he fall back asleep after that call? Seriously? How tired was this guy? "Sydney?" his voice was soft.

"Where are you?" Sydney asked, feeling his stomach churn. He felt like he'd just eaten a plate of bacon cheese fries and tried to wash it down with three energy drinks at three in the morning. "Hey, I'll drive you back home, okay? I'm sorry about what I said. I was just really pissed because Darla and I broke up and… shit, Sebastian, are you okay?"

"You and Darla broke up? No wonder you're such a fucking dick," Sebastian yawned. "I'm in the hospital."

"Hospital?" Sydney felt like his jaw must've dropped to the ground. "What the fuck are you doing in the hospital?"

"Hospital?" Nathalie looked up at him. Her soft green eyes were big. "Sebastian's in _the hospital?"_

Sebastian was between being conscious and asleep from the sound of things. He could hear the bastard snoozing already. Someone must've tried to wake him up. "Hmm?" he said into the receiver. Sydney didn't know how one guy could sleep so damn much. No wonder he was looking thinner all the damn time. When did he have the time to fucking eat when he was too busy dreaming about all the makeup that he wanted to secretly buy? "I think I had a fit—you know, a seizure."

"A seizure?" Sydney said. He'd never seen him have a seizure in his whole life. "You mean like when you fall down to the ground and your body shakes all out of control? Like one of those? Because you've never had one of those, Sebastian."

"Yeah, like one of those," Sebastian mumbled. He didn't sound like he gave a shit. He sounded like he wanted to go back to sleep. "But I'm okay. I'm just so damn tired."

The line ended and Sydney felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't even dare look at his parents.

"Syd, what does he mean that he's in the hospital?" Jean said, looking paler than the mug he loved so damn much. The one he drank from every morning. "What happened?"

"Um... Dad, Sebastian had a fit," Sebastian answered. "You know, uh… the kind where you collapse, black out and your arms and legs shake around like in the movies? You know? He had one of those."

There was a moment of silence. His mom looked like someone just punched her in the face.

"He's never had one before," Nathalie said. "There's nobody in the family that even has epilepsy."

"Yeah, I know," Sydney said, feeling his cheeks go hot and red. "But there's a first time for everything... he says he feels okay. He's just tired. That's good... I guess."

To say that his parents were shook were an understatement. They were out the door in ten minutes and his dad was driving like he wanted them to get into an accident. Sydney had never been this freaked out in his life, and it finally clicked. When his mom told him how she didn't want to tell Sebastian about him being sick, Sydney finally got why. He had never felt so bad in his life. Not even when he was actually sick and afraid. He would never want Sebastian to feel this damn bad.

During the car ride, Sydney felt like he should say something. And he did, but he didn't feel any better about it.

"Mom? Dad?" Sydney sat up straight, looking at their faces plastered with worry. How many times did they drive to the hospital, looking like that? Sydney just felt the worst. He didn't want to think about this. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, baby," Nathalie said soothingly. "There was something not right with Sebastian for months."

"Yeah," Sydney said, feeling sick. He should've known that there was something wrong with him. He was always tired and always complained that he didn't feel great. If they took him seriously, would they have prevented him from having a seizure? What if it was like one of those fits that they put you in a coma for?

Jean shook his head. "Just wait until you tell the doc that he's been throwing up every fucking morning for months."

"Yeah," Sydney shook his head. "He told us that he was sick, but we didn't get him checked out before." Why the hell didn't they believe him? Why were they so quick to believe that it was from the booze? Why couldn't they just take him to the hospital just to make sure? It would've taken one goddamn fucking hour and they'd be in the clear, you know?

"Look, Syd, it's just a seizure, right?" Jean tried to get him to get down to planet Earth. "Lots of teenagers have epilepsy."

Sydney just shook his head. "Just like lots of people have asthma, you mean?" he couldn't shake this feeling that the doctors were going to tell him something big. Like they were going to tell him that Sebastian had ten days to live or something.

His parents stayed silent for the rest of the car ride. Sydney wondered if they really believed that everything was fine.

Ten more minutes, and they were bursting through A&E in a hospital that should've been twenty minutes away.

His father looked funny, red-faced with sweaty palms. Jean looked about ten years older, with his gelled back hair and his old jeans that barely fit him. Nathalie's hair was a mess, and her makeup was all wrong. She was wearing the worst dress ever. Sydney didn't even know where she found it. It was a dress that had pictures of peaches on it. Fucking _peaches_.

Fourteen-year-old Sebastian would think that his mom looked like shit and shouldn't be allowed to go out in public.

Sydney walked over to Sebastian and he genuinely felt nauseous when he realised that Sebastian was sleeping. He was on his side and he had his head in his hands, snoozing away. He didn't look peaceful. He looked like whatever he was dreaming about was pissing him off. He was wearing clothes that he hated and made him look about ten times smaller than he actually was. Sebastian was grey from how pale that he was, and his 'friends' looked like they were worried about him.

"Mr and Mrs Smythe," Blaine stood up, looking a little surprised to see them there. "Sydney," he nodded to him.

Dave got up too and he offered them the chair that he was sitting on. They were so tired and sad that they didn't even say no. Blaine and Dave disappeared to get more chairs, and Kurt didn't look like he was offering up his. Like Sydney wanted his chair. He just wanted Sebastian back. He wanted to talk to him and ask him what happened. He wanted to fix everything. He wanted him to feel safe from Colton and the hospital and everyone else that tried to hurt him.

Then Sydney noticed it. There was a bright red imprint on Sebastian's cheek. His breathing hitched.

"Who fucking hit him?" Sydney hissed. How fucking dare they hit him? As if what happened today wasn't bad enough.

Kurt squirmed in his seat. "We… had a fight," he said. "And he's the one that started it. He pushed me."

"He pushed you, so you _punched_ him?" Sydney was surprised that Kurt was defending himself. He punched his twin in the face, and what? Then Sebastian had a fit? Sydney couldn't think of anything that Kurt could say that could rectify this. His parents were too nice to tell him to fuck off, but Sydney wasn't. "And why are you here? To erase your guilty conscience?"

"No, believe it or not, I'm not that much of a dick to leave him alone after he just had a seizure," Kurt replied.

"Best friend of the year, I'm sure," Sydney wasn't even sure if Sebastian considered Kurt a friend or if they were still enemies. From the looks of things, if Sebastian thought that Kurt was his friend, he was in way too deep.

Kurt leaned forward. "I never said I was proud of what I did," he admitted. "Even Sebastian doesn't deserve that."

"What was the fight about?" Sydney asked. He knew that his parents were listening and taking little mental notes to use for later. "Did you disagree about what was the best kind of exfoliating hair treatments?" he asked with a watery smile.

"No," Kurt admitted, biting his lower lip. "He and my fiancé kissed. _I_ thought that he sweet talked him into it. He didn't."

Sydney knew that if Sebastian wasn't so different now, he would've been sweet talking Blaine into kissing him. He was so goddamn desperate to have Blaine in his bed; he would've probably done anything to get him to lip-lock with him. But now, Sydney was not sure and looking at Blaine's face, he knew that Sebastian didn't fucking sweet talk him into anything.

"He would've before," Nathalie admitted, and Sydney nodded his head. "But now, I'm not so sure."

"Yeah, I know that now," Kurt said. "I guess I needed a lot of convincing. I didn't realise that he changed _that_ much."

"You and me both," Sydney admitted. He couldn't completely blame Kurt. Most of them were late to the Sebastian-was-a-different-person-now party. Hell, Sebastian was attending all his classes now. His teachers were writing to his parents every week, talking about how good he was in class. Sebastian pulled out of a sport that he convinced everyone he was obsessed with. Their mom didn't get called into school for anything other than fucking bake sales. Like any other mom.

But if things were so great, then why the hell were they here, you know? Sydney sighed deeply. This was so not good.

It was about half an hour before a doc came around and was shaking Sebastian awake to ask him questions. Sebastian pushed him off with a weak hand. "Go away, mom," he said, sounding tired. "Leave me alone," his voice was slurred.

"Sebastian, sweetie, please wake up," Nathalie slowly shook his shoulder. "Come on. The doctor wants to talk to you."

"Fine," Sebastian said, and then he snorted when he saw the doc standing there. "_You're_ a doctor? Seriously?"

By then, Sydney knew from Dave that Sebastian had been seizing for about ten minutes before he came to the hospital. By the time that he got to the ER, he finally stopped, and they had him under observation because they thought that maybe he was going to have another one. Kurt also mentioned that they were waiting for the main doc to come see him, but there was this younger doc ready to talk to him about it and he was going to tell the other doc when he came here. The younger doc was blonde with a pretty, freckled face, and he looked like he spent more time lifting weights than textbooks.

"Hey," Mr Barbells asked, inching in a little closer to him. "Sebastian? I want to ask you some questions. Is that okay?"

"What questions?" Sebastian sounded dead-tired. If you saw him now, you wouldn't be able to guess that he was asleep twenty-four-fucking-seven. "What on Earth could you possibly want to ask me about, pretty face?"

"Things like what happened before you fainted? Did you see anything? Those sorts of questions," Mr Barbells asked.

"Sure, blondie… well, there were some lights in front of my eyes. Like zig zags," Sebastian said. He grabbed his pillow and placed it on his lap, looking more like a zombie. "Then I just passed out. I guess. But I don't remember the shaking part. They remember that. My fucking audience... I was _so_ damn lucky," he gestured towards Blaine, Kurt and Dave.

"He scared the shit out of me," Blaine admitted, rubbing his neck. "I never saw him have one of those before."

"He never did," Sydney prompted. But there was this part of him that wondered: what if Sebastian did? When he was passed out and drunk? He heard that some people got this from alcohol or something. And Sebastian drank a lot.

"Yeah," Dave said, swallowing the lump in his throat. 'Doc, listen… he just went stiff, blacked out and started jerking his arms and legs. He got this white stuff frothing at the mouth. That didn't stop for ten minutes. I heard that you were supposed to unbutton the top button of whatever shirt they were wearing, but he didn't got any buttons so I kind of just… well, I didn't know why they ask you to do that. It sounds pretty important. We got him to the car, and by the time that he was here, he just stopped." Sebastian snickered at _white frothy stuff_. The dick couldn't get his mind out of the gutter.

"Fucking thanks, Karofsky," Sebastian looked down at his hoodie. It was split in the middle. "You're paying for this."

"You've been sleepy ever since you had the seizure right?" Mr Barbells asked. Sebastian gave him an _are you serious?_ look. "And your brother said that this was your first time? Is there anything else? Anything that's been happening that's…?"

"Ain't once fucking enough for you?" Sebastian hissed coldly. But then his facial expression softened.

Mr Barbells didn't look so pissed at Sebastian's hostility though. "There isn't anything else that you want to talk about, Sebastian?" he asked. "You look like you got a lot to say. You're really talkative. There isn't nothing?"

"There is," Sydney said, prompting Sebastian to talk about the booze and his ritualistic morning headache and vomiting.

Sebastian shook his head, but then paused, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I guess. I got this headache every morning," he said. He noticed that the doc was still listening because he still talked. Sydney knew this story very well. Sebastian had been complaining about this for fucking months now. Not weeks. _Months_. "It goes away throughout the day, but it ain't like how a hangover usually feels like. Look, I drink a lot. I'm not fucking proud of it. I've been throwing up stuff in the morning, but it's not like it is with a hangover either. It's just… it's different I guess. It happens when I don't drink too."

"What?" Sydney was under the impression that it only happened when he drank. Why didn't Sebastian say _that_ before?

"I thought you drank all the time," Kurt looked at Sebastian, who just snorted. "Well, you never bothered correcting me."

"I _do_ drink all the time," Sebastian admitted. "I don't drink enough to get hungover more than a couple of times a week."

"Did you get help for that?" Mr Barbells asked. His parents were red in the face, and Sebastian just shook his head. Now laid out like that, it sounded stupid he didn't go to a doc for months about it. "Nobody ever looked into that? Did someone in your school ever say anything to you about it, or did you go to a nurse because you don't feel good during the day?"

Sebastian snorted. "Like my teach would give _me_ a pass," he mumbled. "It's only in the morning anyway."

"It only happens in the morning?" the doc repeated. Sebastian nodded his head. "Do you sweat at night? Really badly?"

"Why?" Sebastian looked pale. "What do you think it's from? It's not from the booze? You think it's from something else?" Sebastian asked, but the doc changed the question. Sydney's heart stopped. That was not a good sign.

"Is this your normal weight?" Mr Barbells asked, gesturing to Sebastian's body. Sydney snorted. Yeah right.

"Is it from something else?" Nathalie asked, but the doc ignored her too. Yeah, it was no good. It _was_ something else.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it ain't," he replied. When Mr Barbells asked him to quantify how much weight he lost in the last few months, Sydney felt like shit for not bothering to ask. He knew Sebastian weighed himself recently because he had to shop for new pants. "I lost like eighteen pounds. Look, I'm a thin guy but I ain't ever looked like this before."

Sydney felt like Sebastian just hit him with a blow. Sure, he thought Sebastian was thinner, but not twenty pounds thinner.

"You ever seen anyone about that before either?" Mr Barbells asked, and Sebastian shook his head. "Were you on a diet?"

"Do I look like I need to be on a diet, asshole?" Sebastian replied. "I just don't feel like eating. It ain't a crime."

"Did you notice if you aren't acting the same by any—" Mr Barbells was cut off because Nathalie answered this time.

"He's not acting like himself," Nathalie admitted, and Sebastian looked surprised that she even mentioned that. "He just suddenly is acting much nicer than he actually is. He's a really defiant, really wild kind of kid—pretty hard to control, but recently, he's just been quiet, almost subdued. He stays in his room a lot when he's at home. It's not very much like him."

"Is this true?" Mr Barbells asked, and Sebastian just shrugged. "Did you really change this much?"

"Yeah," Dave replied almost immediately. "He fucking helps me with my homework, man. This is a guy that almost blinded a guy three months ago and now, he's doing charity work? There is something weird there."

"I guess," Sebastian replied. "I didn't just wake up and decide to be a better person, you know. It happened just like _that_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Kurt told him, and Sebastian just glared at him.

"Look who's talking. Like you noticed if I actually changed in the past few months," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. "To you, I'm still a fucking asshole. And thank you for punching me in the face, Hummel. I don't care how long you stay to around here. I don't care what you fucking say to me. Hell, _I'm_ gonna sue you for giving me epilepsy."

When the doc raised an eyebrow, Nathalie just smiled at him. "Yeah, doc," she said. "This is the nicer version."

By then, Sebastian went to take a piss, but Jean and Nathalie answered the rest of the doc's questions. It seemed kind of sick that they were aware of the bottles of the hard stuff that Sebastian drank regularly, and the fact that he smoked packs of cigarettes a day. You'd think that they would've intervened before. That they would've made him to stop for good.

Kurt even looked at them with shock when they mentioned how bad off he actually was. And to think, he was better. Yeah, it wasn't a good situation to be in. It made Sydney figure that he had no right to be pissed off at Sebastian's friends.

They all screwed him over at some point, but some of them were just in deeper than the other, you know?

"So, what is it, doc?" Sydney felt his throat ache. "Does Seb have epilepsy, or… do you think that it's something else?"

"It could be," the doc replied, and he looked honest enough. But it wasn't that comforting. "Look, I can't tell you anything until we run some tests, but a sudden personality change like this—one you didn't decide on by yourself—is not a good thing, especially with the headaches, the early morning vomiting and the weight loss he's been complaining about. If it _is_ just epilepsy, lots of people have gone on to live pretty normal lives after their diagnosis. You can't drive a car or go swimming anymore, but on the right treatments, you can adapt. Better yet, this could be just a one off since it sounds like he drinks a lot and sometimes, all that alcohol could actually make you have a fit as a one-off. But we're really worried that it could be something else, so he's gonna have to stay in the hospital until we run some tests on him."

"Really?" Nathalie asked. "He can't drive anymore? If… if they tell him he has epilepsy?"

Sydney knew why she asked. Sebastian would be fucking pissed knowing he couldn't drive anymore. For the past year, he'd been trying to save up enough money to get himself something pretty on four wheels.

"That wouldn't be my major concern right now," the doc said, and Sydney went numb. "There are other things that we want to make sure that Sebastian doesn't have—and they are a lot worse than epilepsy. When he comes back, we're going to send him up to get some urgent brain imaging done and we're going to admit him tomorrow for further workup."

"Urgent what?" Sydney's head was in for a loop. What was so damn urgent that they had to have him go do it now?

Sebastian absolutely hated the hospital. Sydney couldn't wait until their parents had to tell him that he was staying.

"Work-up for what?" Nathalie asked, but the doc already left. Sydney wanted to go back home and crawl under his bed.

"This isn't good," Sydney said the second the doc was out of sight. "Sebastian isn't gonna like staying here."

"Oh, so that was all that bitching was about," Dave said, offering a weak smile. He didn't look that rosy sitting there in hospital lights. Maybe it reminded him of almost offing himself. Sydney felt bad for him. "He's been in and out of sleep for the past hour, and every time he wakes up, he asks me about when he can go home because he was sick of being here."

"Yeah, Sebastian hates hospitals," Sydney explained, shaking his head. "He keeps saying he'd rather die than be there."

Jean's face hardened. "What's worse than epilepsy?" he didn't look like he wanted to think about it.

"I got epilepsy?" Sebastian asked, walking towards them. He looked so normal, so there couldn't actually be something wrong with him, right? Sure, he was re-enacting Sleeping Beauty at home, but if he stopped drinking, then this was all going to go away, right? At least that was what Sydney was hoping for. "That's what the gay doc said?"

"He said he's going to run some tests," Jean explained. "They want to make sure it's not anything worse."

"What does that fucking mean?" Sebastian sat at the edge of the bed. He balanced a bag of chips in one hand and a can of Coke in another. "I don't want anyone to run any tests on me. I feel fine and I want to go home."

"I didn't take you for the whiny type," Kurt commented. "The great Sebastian Smythe is scared of needles?"

"I fucking hate hospitals," Sebastian mumbled. It wasn't like Sydney or his parents were a big fan either. Sebastian was here when his dad got a heart attack and when Sydney kept coming in for lung infections. But now that he was in the hot seat, he didn't look like he wanted to be. "What's it to you, princess? What are you even doing here, huh?"

"What _are_ you doing here, Kurt?" Sydney asked, but his voice was soft. His head hurt. All he could think about was the fact that the doctor thought that maybe Sebastian had something worse than epilepsy. He didn't know what though.

Kurt sat down beside him. "Well… Sebastian, I wanted to apologise," he said. "For jumping to conclusions all this time."

Sebastian just snorted. "Yeah, whatever," he said. "Did you hear, princess? It sounds like the doc thinks that my niceness is just a symptom of a disease. They're probably give me some pills and I'm gonna go back to making your life miserable."

"I probably deserve it—you know, if you do make my life miserable after my most recent stint," Kurt admitted, and Sebastian looked taken back but almost… touched. Sydney didn't get that. "What? I was even worse than you."

"Yeah, yeah you were," Sebastian smirked. "An admirable feat, Gay Face. It takes a lot to outdo me."

"I guess so," Kurt smiled. Sydney was weirded out. "So, when you get better, maybe you can get back at me?"

"Sounds like a good deal," Sebastian smirked. He pulled his hand out. "Thanks, princess."

Kurt shook his hand. "Are you always so formal when arranging revenge plans?" Sebastian just shrugged. "You know, you really aren't so bad. You know when they say that a dog's bark is worse than its bite? You're like that."

"Like you ever saw how _I_ bite," Sebastian smirked again, and Kurt looked disgusted. "Plus, _you're_ the bitch, not me."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and then asked, "Does everything have to revolve around sex with you?"

He flushed, when he remembered that Sebastian's parents were there. Sebastian collapsed into roaring laughter.

Sitting there, Sebastian looked funny. He got his hoodie split in the middle and looked pissed off. He was completely unaware that the doc said that he thought that he might have something worse than epilepsy. He thought he was gonna get better with a pill. Sebastian was just fumbling with a packet of chips in his hand. The asshole didn't even bother asking if anyone wanted some. He started munching through them in the most annoying way possible.

"What are you looking at me for?" Sebastian hissed when he noticed Sydney was watching. "Get your fucking own."

"You're a fucking pig, Sebastian," Sydney told him off, and Sebastian just rolled his eyes.

At least Sebastian's mood lifted for the rest of the night. He still mentioned he wanted to be out of the hospital every ten minutes, especially when the nurse came around to fiddle with his IV lines. Sebastian went to pee about every hour because he didn't want to stay still in the emergency room. He walked around so much that he was making Sydney dizzy and he was about the worst patient that anyone could ever have. Sydney was sure the nurses wanted to get rid of him now.

Over the course of the next few hours, they got him to do an CT scan booked him for an EEG and MRI.

As Sydney listened to the doc list off all the things that he wanted Sebastian to do, he watched his twin brother groan and bitch about how he was sick of people taking blood from him. They took blood from him—in multi-coloured tubes. It looked like there was a test for everything these days, right? Sebastian was fidgety and had to have a cannula inserted in his arm more than once because he moved around so goddamn much. You'd think he was the only sick person in Ohio.

But Sydney figured that Sebastian was only acting like this because he really wanted to go.

"Hey," Dave sat down beside him, talking to him with that smooth honey-like bear cub tone. "You feeling okay?"

Sebastian did calm down after that, but it was like he was fully wired now. "I'm fine," he complained, and he looked pale almost. He looked freaked out being here, and Sydney didn't blame him. The more that he was there, the more Sydney was afraid that they were going to tell him that there was something wrong with him. "I just wanna go home, okay?"

"Just give it a day or two," Dave replied. "Hey, if you behave, I'll make you that sugar coffee water you like so much."

"Whatever, Dave," Sebastian cleared his throat. "I don't feel like I'm dying for a cup of coffee anyway."

Sebastian didn't look that consoled, but his reaction was better than Sydney ever hoped for. Dave sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, and then placed his hand. "Look, the truth is it looks like they're looking for something," Dave said. "I don't know what you said. Being nicer, the whole you looking like Gollum, the pregnancy puke… I don't know, but they're looking for something. And they're not going to let you go unless they know you don't have it, you know?"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah, I know," he said. "But I can just come back if I don't feel great, yeah?"

"You're not leaving, Sebastian," Nathalie told him firmly. Yeah, he wasn't sweet talking his way out of this one.

"Look," Dave said, in a firm but tender tone. "We both know they're gonna let you out and about a few hours from now, you're going to be telling me you don't feel good and then collapse on your bed, snoozing for the next twelve hours."

Yeah, everyone knew that much. Sydney didn't know how to talk about that to Sebastian. That they should've done something, even if this turned out to be nothing. He didn't think that their performance was really that great.

Sebastian snorted, as he squirmed uncomfortably in the bed. "Do _you_ think it's something, bear cub?"

Dave looked at him with a stern expression. "You want the truth?" he asked, and Sebastian just shook his head. "Yeah, I do. I think it's something." Sydney thought so too. He knew that nobody wanted to think that it was something either.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Sebastian replied. Sydney didn't know if Sebastian thought it was something too.

He didn't say anything. He stopped complaining as much now. They ate Thai food in the emergency room, and Sydney found it weird. Here he was, sharing spring rolls with a guy that Sebastian almost blinded. His mom was discussing her wedding details with an eighteen-year-old that also got wedding problems. His mom was getting married to a guy that Sebastian never met, and they were sitting here because even though they all had fucked up relationships with Sebastian, they all cared about the fact that he just had a fucking seizure right after one of Sebastian's 'friends' just hit him.

It felt right somehow too. Even though it was a really weird situation, it felt like it was okay, you know?

The next day, Sydney thought that the waiting was the worst. Sebastian did all kinds of tests. From an MRI to an EEG to getting more blood drawn out of hi. Much to Sebastian's chagrin, he was pretty much exhausted by the end of the day.

Sydney felt the weight of the last few days on his shoulders. Darla and him breaking up, finding out that Colton raped Sebastian and spending the last thirty-six hours in the hospital with doctors fishing for something big.

Sydney was hoping that all they were coming out with were sardines.

Sebastian was in the ward now, and he was pretty much irritated by everyone that he got to share a room with. Sebastian's doc—his real one and not Mr Barbells—came around to talk to them, and he didn't look that happy about what they saw.

Kurt and Blaine apparently were still going to go ahead with the wedding, wanting to forget about everything that happened. Erasing the slate, so that they had a new one. Not just with each other but with Sebastian too. Sydney guessed that they were all friends right now, real friends. And he wondered how that must be like for him… to have _real friends_.

The doc's name was Dr Jonathon Riedl. He looked like he knew what he was doing. That was good, right?

Sebastian was playing a fucking game on his phone when they were sitting there. Sydney wanted to punch him in the face, but he guessed that Kurt Hummel already beat him to it, right? He was like three fucking years old sometimes. He did put aside his game when he saw him there, but he looked like he'd rather be looking at what lofts to buy on his property estate.

Sydney knew that this was going to be bad, especially when the doc said, "I'd prefer to talk to just the family."

Nathalie took a deep breath in, because they knew that there was no fucking way that this was going to be good news.

Blaine looked like a deer caught in headlights, and he looked back at Sebastian with a soft expression. Sebastian nodded his head, and he didn't even look at Dave or Kurt. Looked like they really did make up for what happened in just hours.

"Sure," Dave said, as he grabbed Sebastian's hand and squeezed it. "We're gonna go get you that coffee I promised."

Sebastian nodded his head, but he looked like he was about to piss his pants. When it was just them and the doctor, the guy didn't waste time talking and Sydney wished that he'd just give them a break, you know? It was a hard few days, man.

"We got the results from Sebastian's tests and unfortunately, it isn't exactly good news," Riedl said.

_I figured,_ Sydney thought. Why else would he tell his friends to get out if it was fucking marvelous news?

Sydney felt his body flush with warmth. "What do you mean?" Jean asked, but he bet that the doc was going to tell him anyway. He was going to tell him that the least of Sebastian's problem was a fucking car. "What's wrong with him?"

"From the imaging that we did, we found a mass in his brain," Riedl explained. "It doesn't look great."

"A mass?" Sydney sounded out, and he felt his voice echo out in the world. "Like _cancer?"_ he regretted it the second that he said it because his parents looked like they were the ones that were about to faint, and Sebastian turned white.

"We can't be sure," Riedl honestly said. "But it looks like it. We can't be sure unless we actually see it."

His parents looked stunned, like they didn't know what to say or what to do or something. They were just standing, silent.

"You mean you got to open him up?" Sydney wished that he could shut up, because he suddenly knew what was going on.

His poor fucking parents were sitting there, hoping that they were going to hear that this was a one-off and here was Sydney shooting their fucking hopes with questions like this. About opening Seb up and about his possible fucking cancer.

"Yes," Riedl replied, and Sydney didn't dare look at Sebastian's face. "But we want to see if it's just in the brain first."

"Where fucking else could it be?" Sebastian sound angry. "Is the one in my head not enough? I could have _another_ one?"

Riedl kept his face completely stern. "It could've come from someplace else, Sebastian but it could've just gotten the brain. That's not a good sign," he admitted. How fucking reassuring, right? "But if it's not, you need to have the surgery."

"You ain't cutting my fucking head open," Sebastian said coldly. Sydney couldn't blame him. It was a terrifying thought.

"Sebastian, baby…" Nathalie's voice was soft. His mom had tears running down her face. "Sebastian, listen to—"

"I'm not listening to anyone," Sebastian snarled back at her. "Nobody is going to get my head cut open for anything."

"Look, we'll talk about the options later," Riedl replied, trying to keep his voice as understanding as possible. But it looked like he just wanted Sebastian to say that he was okay with having his head cut open and being investigated. "But we have to keep you on pills since you're in risk of getting another seizure. We're going to book you for another scan tomorrow."

"I'm not staying here," Sebastian crossed his arms. "You got that chemo stuff, right? Why do you have to cut me open?"

"You don't have to stay here," Riedl promised, and Sebastian looked almost relieved. But Sydney didn't know how relieved he should be. Sydney was just hoping that they'd open him up and find out it was something else. Something okay. Something that would make them annoyed that they scared them so bad with the _c_ word. "But you have to come to your scan, and we'll have an appointment for you on Thursday. And Sebastian, if you really _do_ have brain cancer, then we still need to cut it and then send it to the lab to get it analysed. Then they tell if you need any chemotherapy. Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking raining in sunshine over here," Sebastian glowered at the guy. "I'm just fucking great, doc."

"Does brain cancer give him that?" Sydney asked. "You know, the puking, the headache and the personality changes?"

"Yeah, it can," Riedl said. "But any mass in the brain can give you that. The weight loss goes with cancer. I'm hoping that we're wrong and that it's something else, but we won't know for sure unless we run more tests and until after surgery."

Sydney slammed his hand into the wall straight after the doctor left. Typical fucking football jock, right?

He got so many questions. He didn't even ask them, and his parents were standing there, like they didn't know what was going on. They didn't ask anything. Sydney was the only one that was asking. But why the hell was he so surprised?

Sydney just felt really, really numb. He looked back at Sebastian and all he could think of was how horrible this was.

Yeah, deep down, he always knew that it was a chance since they said that it was something big. Because when a doctor said that there was a chance that it could be something big, didn't your mind just go to cancer? What could be bigger than that? But deep down, you tell yourself that it couldn't be that. That cancer happened to _other_ people, not your twin brother.

He was suddenly scared he was going to open his eyes and Sebastian was going to look like he was dying.

He walked out of the room because he couldn't bear to listen to his mom crying and his dad just holding Sebastian's shoulder like that. Sebastian looked so zoned out like he couldn't believe that they were talking about _him_. How could they be? Sebastian was a seventeen-year-old kid. How could he have cancer? Nobody in the family even had it. So why him?

When Sydney stepped out, he saw that Dave, Kurt and Blaine were standing there. They knew it wasn't good.

"What's wrong?" Blaine was the first to ask. "Sydney, are you okay? Is… is everything going to be okay?"

Sydney shook his head adamantly. "No, nothing's ever gonna be okay again," he didn't care about who knew. Why should it be a secret? He was sick of keeping secrets. He doubted that Sebastian was ever going to straight up tell anyone.

"Hey, little guy," Dave said, rubbing his shoulder. Yeah, Sydney could see why Sebastian liked him. "It's okay."

"No, it's not, you stupid fucking lug," Sydney spat out. "They think that Sebastian has cancer, okay? They think he's…"

_Is he gonna die? _Sydney should've fucking asked that, you know? He should've asked the doctor of his if he was going to be okay. Now, Sydney could barely breathe, and he doubted that all the inhalers in the goddamn world could help him out.


	13. Dave and Sebastian on the Phone

_honestly, i myself thought i'd completely abandoned this fanfic but suddenly i had a sudden urge to see this one through. fortunately, this chapter is a little longer to make up for the long time of no updating..._

* * *

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Thirteen: Dave and Sebastian on the Phone

* * *

"Sydney?" Sebastian walked out of the hospital room; his voice was so soft. His freckled face was botched up and red.

He felt totally wrecked. When did he start crying about this exactly? He got a little confused between his mom telling him that _he was going to be okay_ and his father rubbing his shoulder and giving him that pleading _please be okay_ look. He never had people hold on him like that. Like they were afraid that you were going to disappear through their fingers.

"Syd?" Sebastian felt like changing out of this hoodie that he hated and crawling into bed for the rest of the day.

Sydney was sucking on his inhaler like it was giving him life. "Sebastian? Are you supposed to be out of the room?"

"Yeah, well…" Sebastian rubbed his neck. He caught Dave's pained eyes from across the room. "Bear cub?"

"Sebastian," Dave walked towards him and he got that real glum look on his face. "Is it true? About…?"

Sebastian just stared back at him. He couldn't lie to Dave. He saw Kurt and Blaine staring at him like they could see straight through him, and it unnerved him that they could see how weak he could be on the inside too. Even if they were 'friends' now, he wasn't used to so many people able to look at him like that. Like they could _tell_ how much he hurt.

"Yeah," Sebastian replied. "They won't know for sure until they do more tests on me, but it really sounds like it."

He felt all numb on the inside. Sebastian didn't know how to wrap his head around that. He went from completely fine and moody, alcoholic dick to being told that they needed to crack open his head because they thought he had _cancer_. Like how did you even go from one to the other in like eight hours? It didn't make no fucking sense.

Holy shit. He'd never been more goddamn scared shit in his life. He felt like he was just given a fucking death sentence.

Sebastian saw the look on Dave's face. He got this sad look in his eyes that made him squirm. "Are you okay, big guy?"

Dave shook his head, looking real goddamn miserable. Sebastian just wrapped his arms around him. When he heard Dave crying—hell, when he heard him _sobbing_ like a little kid, Sebastian felt hot tears fill his face too. "Come on, man," Sebastian stroked his back and feeling how tense he was. "Take a fucking breath. I don't need you passing out on me."

Dave clung onto him ten times tighter. "You fucking dick," he said in a cracked voice. "You're such a fucking tool."

"Yeah, I am. I'm a fucking tool," Sebastian offered him a weak smile. He looked at Kurt, who was staring at him with glossy blue eyes. What the fuck was going on here? Were they really doing this here? In a hospital hallway? With people that he didn't even know that great? They were sad for him, seriously? Even Gay Face was crying for him. Sebastian never thought he'd live the day to see this happening—fuck, that was a shitty choice of words… and it made Sebastian cry ten times harder because he obviously was leaking blood out of his mangina. "So… what are you going to do about it?"

"Screw you," Dave was probably going to end up breaking Sebastian's rib now if he held on any harder. "Shit, man. That's…"

"Yeah," Sebastian looked at a tearful Kurt. Great. Now, he got to deal with the sad princess too. "Look who's makeup ain't on point. You don't even _like_ me, princess."

"No, I don't... I-I hate you, but believe it or not, I don't want you to die," Kurt shook his head in disbelief. He was clinging onto Blaine's arm, who was also producing water works. Sebastian never felt so popular. "Oh God, I feel like such a dick. I just hit you for literally no reason and you're literally actively _dying_. Your parents are going to hate me forever," he was real struck.

He rolled his eyes. "So, it would've been okay to clock me one in the face if I wasn't?" Sebastian asked hotly. Yeah, he wasn't letting that go. Okay, if he wasn't such a dick, he probably should, but he was so... bad for Gay Faace he guessed.

"No!" he couldn't believe that he was seeing this. Kurt looked seriously fucking sick. "I already apologised for that and—"

"Ain't it sad when you apologise for something a million fucking times and nobody cares?" Sebastian smirked. Kurt stayed silent, looking like he'd regretted every horrible thing he'd ever said to him. Sebastian bit down his lower lip, shaking his head. Gay Face was seriously crying for him. Could you think of anything that was more unpredictable than that? Because he fucking couldn't. "Alright, everyone, stop with the fucking waterworks," he hissed. "This ain't _The _goddamn fucking _Notebook_." Funnily enough, Sebastian didn't even know what happened in that movie. Why the hell would he?

Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "More like _A Walk To Remember_," of course, Gay Face saw chick flicks like that. Could he try not to be so predictable for once?

"Sure," Dave snorted when Sebastian told him to stop crying. "You first, Smythe," Dave wiped off the tears from Sebastian's face. But Sebastian shook his head.

"I just heard that I probably got cancer," Sebastian's tears were still falling real fast. If he cried any harder, they might send him to the nursery to stay with the other babies. "What's _your_ excuse, big guy?"

"I just heard my best fucking friend got cancer," Dave replied. "That's my fucking excuse." Sebastian just snorted.

Sebastian felt his heart stop. Yeah, he was still was so pathetic that he needed someone to tell him that they were friends. But honestly, after what happened with Blaine? Like Blaine not knowing they were friends and thought they were 'part of the same circle?' Yeah... so he felt like he got an excuse for being surprised. "_You're_ my best friend?" he asked, only for Dave to playfully shove him aside.

"No, I just hang out with you all the time 'cause you're easy," Dave rolled his eyes, and Sebastian laughed. But laughing hurt too. Everything goddamn hurt.

It wasn't like they actually told him for sure that he got cancer. What was he going to do when they actually told him? Was he going to like hand in his balls for a man cunt or something?

He pulled away from Dave, but only for Kurt to grab him by his waist and hold him tightly. It was a strange sensation, being hugged by a guy that Sebastian was pretty sure didn't give a shit about him croaking just ten minutes ago… a guy that was now holding onto him so tightly he could smell that girly perfume he put on. It was so gross. Seriously?

"I'm so sorry, Sebastian," Kurt mumbled into Sebastian's shoulder, and it was just so weird to heard him apologise. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry that I was so cold to you. I'm so sorry that I didn't give you a chance."

Blaine got into the hug, burying his head into Sebastian's arm. What the fuck was going on here? Was this considered assault?

"God, would you fucking stop?" Sebastian said, sick of crying, and sick of being so damn scared. He wished that nobody ever told him. He was now suddenly fucking terrified to go back to sleep because he thought he might just die in his sleep. And it wasn't like his mom could comfort him. He could tell from her face that she was thinking about the same thing. "This is way too much. I'm not exactly slowly decomposing in front of your eyes, okay? So, let's stop this fucking sobfest."

Kurt and Blaine pulled away, but they looked at him like they would afraid he'd suddenly just collapse on the floor.

"Well, I'm real sorry for giving a shit, Sebastian," Dave replied softly. Sebastian smiled weakly back at him. "My bad."

As they stood in silence, Sebastian felt the tears dry up on his face and he felt more like himself. He almost forgot what they just told him, even though he was still devastated (weak bitch). He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Fuck, he almost forgot that he had a life outside of this stupid hospital, you know? The lacrosse team that he dropped out of. All the classes that he'd missed because of his seizure (that everyone knew about and thought was because of the binge-drinking. Shocking, right?). The Warblers visiting him every day after school and Sebastian pretending to be asleep so that he didn't have to talk to them. His job that he didn't turn up to for two shifts and was probably fired from right now... like Hunter Clarington would cover for him even if he did know.

Sebastian closed his eyes. He couldn't be the fucking _cancer kid_ in school. That was crazy. "Hey, look, this can't happen again," he looked up at them. "Okay? I don't want no more of this fucking depressing shit."

"Yeah?" Blaine looked up at him with hopeful eyes, as if he was waiting for Sebastian to tell him to do something. If he was sadistic enough, he'd joke about having Blaine suck his cock, but he was so over that. The whole making out with him after he told him that he was raped thing kind of sucked any interest he had out of that. "What—"

"And try to shut your trap, okay?" Sebastian called out, his shoulders stiffening. "Especially you, Hummel. I don't wanna open my Facebook account and have everyone hope that I get better soon or whatever it is people that don't know you write to you when they know your life got a fucking expiry date on it. Got it?" Did his life even got an expiry date?

If they cut him open and took out the cancer, he'd be fine, wouldn't he? Why would he still die anyway? He didn't get it. Maybe they couldn't take it all out if it was in your head?

Sebastian wasn't even going to let his parents tell his teachers up until they really got to... and honestly, he'd prefer if they'd just straight up lie about what he got even then. He was pretty sure they'd end up scheduling a date for an operation that he didn't even want. Yeah, he doubted his parents were going to care that Sebastian didn't want to be cut open by nobody. They were going to drug him and have him out of the operating room before he got a chance to say that he didn't want it. Honestly, he'd rather make up a story about how he ended up driving too quick and got into a car accident. And that was why he couldn't drive anymore and why they had to do some crazy operation. He doubted that he'd recieved Hummel snd Blaine's blessings if he did, but why should he care about what the New Directions thought? He'd rather just continued to be hated until he croaked. Easier that way. For him. Everyone else that got to live, knowing they were dicks to him? Yeah, that was on them. He wasn't going to fucking help them on their personal journeys not to feel like they were dicks because they watched the cancer kid die and told him he was a tool.

Kurt stiffened. "That's probably not a good idea," he said, and Sebastian knew that was true. "It's not healthy to keep such a big thing from people. Because if people don't know, they're going to treat you like you're…like _I_ did. Like they usually do! And...and-"

Sebastian just shrugged. "And?" he raised an eyebrow. "Like I care about that. And like people need an excuse to treat me like I'm fucking human." Kurt and Blaine visibly winced when he called them out for that. _Now_, they were listening to him? Great. He finally made his point but needed to be told that he might be dying just to do it. That was completely fucking fair.

"You _do_ care about that," Kurt sounded mildly annoyed, but also kind of… concerned? "Why would you cry that day in the mall when you were so pissed about the fact that nobody would believe that you weren't a comic book villain?"

"I don't see nobody helping me out then, princess," Sebastian just shrugged. Yeah, he'd call them out for their bullshit even now.

Kurt shuffled in his spot. "Nobody knew what to do," he admitted. "I never saw you cry before. I...I didn't think you could."

"Huh," Sebastian scoffed. He just rolled his eyes. "Well, you know that I can now, don't you, Gay Face? I mean you saw me cry plenty now," he stuck his hands in his hoodie.

Sebastian didn't want to be _that_ kid. That kid that everyone looked at when they walked into a room. The kind of kid that could make everyone hold in their breaths when he asked for something. The kid that everyone talked about in between classes if they left for a doctor's appointment—like Sebastian ever would. He'd rather shoot himself than leave class for something like that. The kid that didn't got to do PE and never got to explain why because everyone knew. The kid that teachers looked at like they couldn't believe that someone so goddamn young could possibly croak. Honestly, Sebastian would rather have the vicious rumours about how he obviously was going through alcohol withdrawal at the ripe age of seventeen instead. "And don't tell nobody about Colton either," Sebastian warned.

Dave and Kurt looked at him with a serious expression. "What about him?" Kurt asked.

Then Sebastian realised that he had lost count of the people he told and the people he didn't. Did he tell them? He couldn't fucking remember. Great. A four-year secret that wasn't a secret no goddamn more. "Nothing," he replied. He couldn't believe that he forgot that he went to Dave's to tell him... and that the fight sort of happened before he even got to.

"Nothing," Kurt echoed incredulously, staring at him with glossy, vacant blue eyes. "Sure."

Sebastian rolled his eyes but said nothing. Blaine was shuffling uncomfortably from where he stood. What? Did Gay Face seriously think that he was just going to break down and spill everything that was on his mind because it was so 'obvious' that it wasn't nothing? It was bad enough thinking about how he was dying without thinking about the fact that some guy thought so goddamn little of him that he fucked him while he was unconscious. Especially since that guy was his _boyfriend_.

Then a look of realisation dawned on Kurt's face. "You already said," he paused, little beads of sweat forming from his face. Someone had to tell him that he didn't look pretty sweating everywhere. "Blaine already said when…when we fought about you getting…" he trailed off, and it dawned on Dave took, who looked sick. "Oh my God, he said you were _raped_."

Sebastian flinched. Good thing he got no more tears to shed and he was tired. He just wanted to go home.

"Sebastian, I…" Blaine looked so ashamed, rubbing his neck but then Sebastian shoved him. Everyone could tell how pissed he was but they didn't even bother telling him that he shouldn't be punching and shoving people in the hospital. "God, I'm so sorry. It happened in the heat of the moment and I know that it doesn't excuse my behaviour but—"

"No, it fucking don't," Sebastian stiffly said, eyes hardening. All the pre-seizure and post-fight feelings came back and hit him in the head like a drunk homophobe hit him with a brick. "I fucking hate you. But at least your boyfriend don't got to worry about me fantasising about sleeping with you anymore, right? Because that's what's so goddamn important here...the love of the fucking century," he sarcastically snapped.

Before Blaine or Kurt could reply, Sebastian got Sydney throw himself on him and wrap his arms around him. He'd been there all along, right? Whatever. Sebastian couldn't remember.

"Oh God, this is so fucking extra," Sebastian said, only for Sydney to scoff. "Can you get off me or something, dickwad?"

When Kurt, Blaine and Dave noticed Sebastian's parents standing outside of his room, they knew they were wearing out their welcome. Of course, they got that the kid's parents wanted to spend time with him after they figured that he was sick. Kurt and Blaine didn't get to tell him nothing after he called Blaine out for being a dick, but... you know, other than that, everything was okay he guessed. Sebastian watched them walk away with him, with Dave waving at him and saying that he'd catch him later. Sebastian felt his heart twist, like there was a knife in his chest when he saw Dave go.

Sebastian never thought he'd had a real friend before, but Dave felt like he was a real, real friend. He didn't know about Blaine or Kurt anymore than he knew about the rest of the Nude Directions or The Warblers to be honest, but Dave was pretty solid.

They got him discharged at around an hour and a half later.

He was the life of the party, obviously. Sebastian was dozing off in the car. He yawned every time they changed the station and kept rubbing his eyes so much that he was sure that they were about to fall off. Ten minutes into the drive, Sebastian curled up against Sydney and was sleeping. When they got home, he just collapsed on the couch the minute he walked up the never-ending stairs. His legs hurt and he was so tired that he didn't even care where he was sleeping as long as he was back home and away from that gross hospital. Jean tried to pull him up an irritated Sebastian from the couch, but Sebastian kept pushing his hands away. Eventually, his dad won. He led a grumbling, moody Sebastian to his bed. Sebastian was staggering like he was drunk or something. Sebastian threw his hoodie off and pulled his duvet over his chest. His head was pounding like nothing, but he was so tired he knew that he was going to doze off.

The last thing he remembered before clocking off was his dad slowly closing the door behind him after turning off his lights. The blaring of his air conditioning lulled him to sleep. And things would've been great... if he actually stayed asleep.

About half an hour afterwards, the sound of his family fighting woke him up from his dreamless slumber.

"I wish we'd stop acting like this is a death sentence for him," his mom's voice was high. "He's just a sixteen-year-old kid."

"Because sixteen-year-olds don't die," Sydney replied bitterly. "Mom, he has cancer. You know what that _is_, right?"

Wow, and he thought that he was a depressing jerk. Groggily, Sebastian wondered if Sydney would say that to his face.

"Oh, stop being so condescending, Sydney. It's not like you," Nathalie paused. No, it was more like Sebastian. "The doctor said that they won't know until they operate on him, okay? That they can't be sure of anything until they send the samples to the lab and…" his mom's voice was pretty much vibrating through the walls. Sebastian rubbed his eyes, but then closed them, burying his head into his pillow. "What if they cut him open and find out that he doesn't actually have—have… _cancer? _What if? I don't want him to be scared all this time. And you know that he's scared. He's just a child."

Yeah, that was his mom. _Blah blah blah_ Sebastian was so scared. Made him wished he didn't cry in front of her. Whatever. He couldn't exactly white-knuckle it. Especially when he was a hysterical baby.

"I'm pretty sure they really think that he does if they're willing enough to crack his head open," Sydney replied vehemently.

Jean sounded so pissed. "Nat, the kid is practically comatose from how much he fucking sleeps. He's like a brochure for the warning signs of a mass growing in your head. It's a goddamn travesty that nobody felt like it was a problem—even when he _told_ us." Sebastian remembered seeing his mom's face when he was dozing off in the car. She believed that he got cancer. He could tell. It didn't even matter the fact that there was like a chance that it could be something else. She obviously didn't think that it could be. Otherwise, she'd be calming him and telling him that there was nothing wrong with him. But how could you when you thought that your kid really was that sick? "I can't fucking believe we got to wait a week to take him to see someone about this."

"Hey, it's… safe," Sydney replied. Sebastian wished they could shut up so he could sleep. "I mean…they know, right?"

"You'd think so," Jean's angry voice echoed off the walls. "What are we supposed to just do now? Just… wait?"

"What do you want them to do, dad?" Sydney was fuming. Sebastian could imagine his hands shaking. "Do you want them to tell him he probably has cancer and cut him open the next day? So much for mental preparation, you know? Besides, it's not like this thing grew overnight. Sebastian's been upchucking all over the place for _MONTHS_ now!"

There was a moment and lapse of silence. Sebastian thought that finally, he'd be able to sleep.

Ten minutes later, he was pissed. Because now, he didn't even feel like sleeping anymore._ Thanks, mom, dad and fucking Syd._ He was still dead tired.

After half an hour spent lounging on his bed doing nothing, Sebastian just gave up and got up from bed. He gave up on trying to sleep, but he also still felt like a zombie. He got a pile of never-ending homework on his desk from the Warblers, who bought him the stuff he missed every day. Sebastian turned the lights on and tried to ignore the fact that he felt like someone hit him with a gigantic axe. He found some old Superman shirt and a pair of sweatpants that didn't smell like he'd been living in them for a week. He walked to the bathroom (without seeing nobody, thank fucking God) and dumped his clothes in the sink. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he grimaced.

He looked like a train wreck. His cheeks were starting to get that sunken in look. His face looked thinner than usual, which was gross because Sebastian didn't even like his face. His eyes got about as much life into them as a corpse. He even got zits on his face and he didn't even get zits no more. Sighing deeply, he gave up on how he looked and didn't even bother berating himself for looking like a drunk addict clamoring for a fix. He took a real quick shower, and then changed into lighter, comfier clothes. He felt and looked a little better, but he had no energy to do anything with his hair. Streaks of blonde were even starting to show and even now, he couldn't be bothered to fix it. So you could already imagine how much effort he'd put into his look after they cut him open.

After that, he tried to get through the mountain of homework that he had to do or he'd, you know, fail all his classes.

He didn't know if it even mattered anymore, but Sebastian didn't hear nobody tell him that he wasn't going to school anymore. Besides, he felt pretty normal trying to avoid doing his geography homework. That was a normal teenage kid problem. Fifteen minutes after, he found himself scrolling down his Instagram feed. He was totally pretending like he wasn't so tired that he was seeing stars, but he also doubted he could sleep. It was still only four o'clock in the afternoon and he felt like the day was dragging forever. He got discharged about two hours ago, but it felt longer.

After a few moments of contemplation, he called Dave, who answered in three or four rings. "Hey," Dave sounded... weird.

He guessed that this was how things were going to be now. People that knew were going to be really weird around him, like the walking-on-eggshells kind of thing. He bet that Dave felt pissed when people did that when he was in the hospital. But it was hard to act normal when you knew something was wrong. He wasn't normal when he was visiting Dave. He acted like he was scared that Dave was going to suddenly die in front of him. Sebastian didn't even feel normal himself but at the same time, he was over all of this. He wanted things to go back to normal so bad, but already, he couldn't even imagine his life being the same. He couldn't imagine his parents ignoring him for days. He couldn't imagine going out in the middle of the night to drink when he felt so tired. He couldn't imagine getting into a fight with Gay Face anymore. He couldn't imagine that anything he could say would piss him enough to fight with a dying kid. Look, it had only been a couple of days since but he felt like his whole life to shift a whole 180 degrees without him even knowing! He couldn't believe that things changed so goddamn much in so little time. Sebastian just sighed deeply to himself. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to see the Warblers tomorrow anyway?

"Hey," Sebastian replied back, and then it hit him that all the stuff he got pending: the fact that he didn't know whether or not he still got a job, how much he missed in classes and the hours of Warbler practice he got to make up. He was going to have a fucking hellish week trying to get his life back in order after his hospital stay. "Busy?"

"Just watching TV," Dave watched like ten hours of TV a day Sebastian was sure. "You?"

"Homework… um… I'm real fucking behind," Sebastian replied, as he stared at his various dick doodles near his notes on chapter thirteen of his gigantic geography text. He had been spending forever on it and understood it as much as Blaine understood it when Sebastian was bitching at his mom in French. "Plus, I don't even know if I got a job no more." He paused, clearing his throat. "How did you do it, you know? After you got out of the hospital and people were…?"

He was only in the hospital for like three days, and now, he was finding it hard to keep running after what he missed.

"They still are," Dave replied back hoarsely. "I mean…it's kind of not their fault. I get that, but it's hard since obviously, you want people to treat you like you're not about to slice your wrists in front of them or like suddenly scream out you wished you died. Honestly, a part of me wants people to forget and the other part of me thinks about doing it again sometimes—not that I _will_, you know."

"Yeah," Sebastian got exactly what Dave was trying to say even if he never felt it. "Dad not leaving you alone either, right? Paul...Paul was pretty scared."

"Yeah," Dave admitted and cleared his throat. "But… you know how it's like. For him. He just lost his kid."

There was a moment of silence and a real comfortable pause that just happened. Sometimes, you didn't got to talk to say something. Even now... with them being over the phone and Sebastian not being able to see Dave's face, Sebastian knew what he wanted to say. He didn't need to hear him talking to know what he was thinking. What he probably felt. Sebastian didn't know how it was like for his parents, but he didn't want to think about it so much. It probably was the shock of their lives knowing that he was really sick. Because that sort of stuff always happened to someone else's kid, not your own... and he didn't want to think about what this was going to do to his family either. Were his parents still getting a divorce now? How did custody work out when you got a sick kid?

"What were you thinking about when it happened?" Sebastian asked softly, wondering what it would be like but at the same time, feeling sick that Dave really could've been gone forever. He would've never gotten to know how good he was if he really did die. And that got to him all the time. Sometimes, he just thought about how he could've lost Dave and it hurt so bad.

Dave didn't say anything for a few seconds. "I…I don't think I _thought_," he paused. "I felt a lot. But it feels like… when you're like that, it feels like everything's gonna be okay if you're just gone. Like everyone wouldn't care. You know how they tell you that suicide is not a solution, but when you feel that way, you feel like it's the _only_ solution… yeah?"

"Yeah," Sebastian replied weakly. "Do you feel like…maybe someone could've stopped you?"

"I don't know," Dave answered honestly, and that was what he liked about Dave. When he wasn't sure, he said that he wasn't sure. He wondered what he was like when he was a dick. Was he as bad as him? Better, or worse? "I think so." He paused, and then cleared his throat. "Look, I put a lot on you because of what you said. But it's just…you're the first guy I've ever really approached, and I didn't know what the fuck I was doing at the time. You just looked real cute."

"Yeah?" Sebastian perked up when he heard that. Dave just scoffed. "Thanks, buddy. I really try my best."

"But that wasn't you, you know that day at the bar," Dave finally decided to mention. Sebastian was confused for a second and then realised what he was talking about. "When your parents were looking for you, which you know is still kind of sweet and sort of weird… I remember seeing you in that bathroom, but you didn't look like _you_. You looked…"

"What?" Sebastian momentarily thought about this, but he still didn't get it.

He could practically how uncomfortable Dave was at the end of the line.

"What do _you_ think about?" Dave finally asked after a moment of silence. "You know… when you're going out to a bar, when you drink a lot and just have sex with a bunch of guys that you don't know? What are you thinking about? Cause I have a heart time believing that you're just wanting to have a good time. Because you didn't _look_ like you were having a good time, Sebastian."

Sebastian closed his eyes and thought about this. "I just…" he paused, trying to come up with the words. "I..." he wanted to say that Dave probably knew. But how could Dave know?

"You... you... you want someone to hurt you?" Dave quietly guessed. "Because that was what you looked like. Like you didn't care if that guy hit you, or if someone broke your ribs if you got into a fight. It was like you _wanted_ things to go wrong. And the worse that people treated you, the more asshole-like the guy you hooked up with, the more you got hurt, the better."

Sebastian paused for a moment. "You're making me sound like a basket case," he whispered softly.

There was a moment of silence between them. Sebastian was so not thinking about the mountains of homework that he got, or the fact that he could hear Sydney complaining about how he couldn't find his favourite running shoes. It made him wonder how the fuck Sydney was so goddamn sporty if he got a lung disease that could literally obliterate him? He read about it in the hospital, about how some people just got a little stomach issues and some people died at eight 'cause of all the lung infections. Sebastian didn't even know his fucking parents even carried the stupid fucking gene.

"But I'm right, yeah?" Dave asked real carefully. Sebastian squirmed in his chair. "Is that what… what you're thinking?"

"Yeah," Sebastian admitted. He didn't get together with nice guys. He found the most violent-looking guy in the bar, and then came onto him. It was like he wanted someone to hit him with a crowbar and leave him for dead.

He could hear Dave's breathing on the line. "These guys _hurt_ you?" he asked tensely. "And you just let them?"

Sebastian felt his throat swell. "Yeah," he said quietly. He'd never felt so vulnerable in his goddamn life. Was this the kind of stuff you told someone when you were talking over the phone? How the fuck did they even get into this topic? The lapsed into a silence as Sebastian felt his heart grow heavier and his chest hurt. "Hey…do you want to eat dinner here?"

There were a few more moments of silence before Dave asked, "Do your parents _know_ you're inviting me to dinner?"

"No," Sebastian answered immediately. His dad was going out for a run with Sydney. His mom probably starting chopped apples for this gross feta, spinach and apple salad which she made pretty much every Wednesday. When he got out of the bathroom, he saw that she left a bag of frozen sausages out to thaw. He guessed she was making mac and cheese with turkey sausages. She used broccoli soup mix into a box of Kraft, and it made it crazy good. "But do you honestly think they're going to be pissed at me for inviting you?"

He didn't have to say why. Dave and him settled back into… you know, normal, and Sebastian craved some kind of normal so bad. He felt like he was a jockey that was knocked out of a horse and just shattered his knee to the point where he couldn't play again. He didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to just do anymore.

"Okay," Dave finally agreed. Sebastian didn't say it out loud, but he hoped the big guy stayed. He hoped that he skipped school for him or something because he didn't want to spend the night alone. But like _he'd_ actually outright tell the guy that he wanted someone to sleep with him without any sex. He was not that weak or pathetic. "You eat dinner at eight, right? So, I…I guess I'll be there."


	14. Dinner with Dave

**The Curse of Miracles**

Chapter Fourteen: Dinner with Dave

* * *

When Sebastian told his mom that Dave was coming over to eat dinner, his mom was pissed. Her blonde hair was pulled back into the messiest bun he'd ever seen and she'd OD'ed on so much jasmine perfume that Sebastian was gagging.

"Why couldn't you have told me before that your friend is coming over? Sebastian, does that this place look like it's ready for a guest?" Nathalie asked. "I mean—you guys didn't even pick up your laundry yet!" she pointed towards the couch where there was a near nuclear spillage of laundry everywhere, mostly socks that got holes in them and black pants that had been washed for so long that it looked closer to grey than black. "And I didn't even nearly make enough!"

Sebastian scoffed, staring at the spread on the table. His dad would be eating that gross fruit and cheese salad for days.

"I was busy snoozing," Sebastian just shrugged. The scent of gloopy cheese made him gag. Hey, if she was so worried about the bear cub starving to death, then Sebastian would just give up his plate anyway if it would appease her. He didn't feel great, but he guessed his normal was different now since he just passed out in his best friend's fucking house a few days back. "Then I got homework, you know? That thing that I got to do to try and have a fucking future?" he realised his poor choice of words because his mom just dropped the ladle she was holding and looked at him, teary eyed.

She looked like she just got told that her dick criminal ex-husband just got out of prison. Sebastian just stiffened.

"Mom, come on," Sebastian sighed deeply when he noticed that his mom was already starting to babble and cry hysterically. As she sobbed, she just wrapped her arms around him like he was going to fucking disintegrate right in front of her. He wished his mom let him get a dorm in Dalton instead of bitching about how she wasn't so sure that he could wake up on time for his classes or that he could manage a semester there without getting in trouble with Dalton's security guards. "Mom, please… my guy friend is gonna be here. You can't be crying _everywhere_. It don't look so good."

Nathalie just clung onto him tighter. "I'm so sorry," she said tiredly. "I'm _so_ sorry that I didn't believe you."

She paused and stared at him with big, fat green eyes. "Sebastian, these…this cancer…it's all about _when_ you find out, isn't it?"

He shifted away from her, trying not to look her in the eyes. She was making him so damn uncomfortable.

"I mean it's been growing for months and months…what if before, they could take it out before and now, they couldn't because its' been so long?" Nathalie looked disgusted at herself. What was Sebastian supposed to say? _Well, if that was true, mom, it's okay? I don't care that you pretty much killed me? _Yeah, Sebastian doubted that that was going to go down so good. He hated that it seemed like he got to deal with everyone moaning about how sad it was. What about him? He couldn't complain about being scared. Like his mom, who was fucking terrified about him dying, was going to calm him down. She rubbed his cheek. "What if you die because…because we didn't…because nobody believed you? What if that happens?" she asked him softly.

Sebastian just shrugged and didn't say nothing. If he started talking, he wasn't going to say nothing nice.

"I read about it on the internet," she said. "If we would've taken you before. If we would've…you could've…"

"What do you want me to say, mom?" Sebastian didn't expect to sound so cold. His mom looked shocked, but then pressed her hand to her shaking lips. Sebastian closed his eyes. "You know what? It ain't that big anyway, cause I'm still a fucking dick," when he said that, he heard her choke back a sob and then heard the doorbell ring.

He wished he didn't invite Dave over all of a sudden. His good mood just like fucking died, and he felt so guilty for what he said. Even if he was right. Sebastian wished he could stop feeling so goddamn much because it _hurt_.

When Sebastian opened the door, he was surprised to see how good Dave looked. He smelled real nice too, like he'd finally found someone to buy him a cologne that didn't make him smell like he was auditioning to be part of a swamp. He really tried with his clothes too—a thin, white fleece jacket on top of this dark green shirt that brought out how light his eyes were. His jeans got the just-bought-black look to em (a nice cut too), and he was wearing these thick brown boots that was probably hell to walk up all them stairs in. He got a maroon scarf tied around his neck. It was a real nice colour too, especially on him. It was kind of getting too hot for it, but Sebastian appreciated the effort especially since Sebastian was standing there in his fucking sweats and didn't even care. Dave was lucky that Sebastian even smelled okay.

"Hey," Sebastian said softly, wishing that he could muster up at least a fake smile. He probably looked horrible.

"Hey," Dave offered what a gigantic-looking glass baking pan that was covered in tons of aluminum foil. Balanced on top of that, rather cleverly, was this light looking chocolate sponge cake that was covered in caramel syrup. It was store bought, but the gesture was still plenty nice. "My dad made this baked, stuffed chicken with vegetables to take with me, you know, for your mac and cheese. Plus, I got dessert." Sebastian wasn't so much of a dick that he didn't help him carry the stuff over to the table. His mom was flushing, seeing Dave bought pretty much a whole new fucking dinner with him.

"Thanks," Sebastian said when he put down the baking pan on the table. "You really didn't got to bring nothing."

"Yeah, and show up empty-handed again?" Dave smirked a little bit. "I mean I'm not a big dick like you."

"You're right," Sebastian replied and, in a whisper, said, "I _do_ got a big dick," he hoped his mom didn't hear him say that.

Dave smiled and pushed him playfully on the shoulder. Sebastian feigned a look of mock offense.

"Oh!" Nathalie just came in and was flushing, considering she just noticed that Dave bought oven baked fucking chicken for a whole army. Maybe with all these leftovers they got to gobble up, Sydney would finally gain enough weight to look like a _real_ human being. "This is _so_ nice, David," he could see Dave look like he was clocked in the face. David.

_"Soooooo nice, David,"_ Sebastian said mockingly under his breath, and Dave was trying not to smile.

Nathalie, who probably heard him, offered him a tight smile. "What's that, love?" she totally caught on him. "You want to say grace?" they didn't even fucking say grace around that table on fucking Thanksgiving. And who the hell was this fucking Grace person anyway? Like he'd be mentioning anyone with a pussy over at the table when he wanted to eat. "Oh, sweetheart, that isn't necessarily but if you insist and it is your lifelong wish to fulfill then I don't see why you can't—"

"Um…I would, but you know, I…" Sebastian couldn't say all that cum he swallowed changed his voice. His mom might have a fucking aneurysm. "Saving up the voice, you know… for the Warblers," he shrugged tentatively.

"Yes, of course," Nathalie responded back in a thick, sweetly voice. "You won the last competition, didn't you?"

Sebastian shot her a glare, because she knew as well as he did that he didn't win jack shit. "Winning ain't that important, right?" he replied back, shrugging and Dave was trying to bite back his tongue to prevent himself from laughing. "Besides, I mean…we totally got money for Dave for that Lady Gaga foundation for the performance," he reminded her. "Even though we probably should've spent that money to buy Gay Face a new wardrobe," he couldn't help but snicker.

"You did _what?"_ Dave looked surprised, as if that was the first time that he heard that Sebastian did anything like that.

His cheeks coloured in. "It ain't important," he could see Dave's face softening. "Just a show choir thing."

"Sure," Dave answered and then there was this second of silence that hung in the air where Sebastian felt a little light and airy.

Sebastian's stomach churned a little bit more when Dave pulled down the foil and the acidic smell of tomatoes hit him. He couldn't exactly make himself a bowl of cereal and sit down with his family like he'd intended now since the fucking nice asshole, Dave, actually bought food and it would be real goddamn rude to say that he wasn't feeling it.

Dave kept stealing looks at him, like he was really wondering if everything was okay between him and his family.

Sydney and his dad came back from a run half an hour back. Sebastian was just setting up the table when they both came in, faces flushed, as they fought over who got to shower first. Sebastian and his mom didn't talk. It was like the conversation they had didn't happen, even though his mom looked like she was about to have another breakdown. And if she did, he was seriously going to grab the bottle he got stashed under his bed and try to drink it without projectile vomiting so that he didn't got to think about what was going on. Even before he sat down at the table, Sebastian's mind was mentally calculating whether or not his mom still got the oxycodone pills from that knee replacement she did three months back.

Sydney and his dad came in, dressed up in matching red-and-navy sweats and sweatshirts. Him, the gay guy that used to care about how he looked, looked ten times worse. Sydney and his dad's hair were still wet and smelling of real strong shampoo when they started fixing their plates. Dave gave him a smile from right next to him. Sebastian tried not to gag at the strong smell of cheese and hot dogs. How did knocked up women do this? And they actually got to _eat_ to sustain a fucking being. All Sebastian wanted to do was heave just so he didn't feel so goddamn nauseous in the first place.

As if it was a fucking battle, Sebastian scooped up a pathetic serving of potatoes and chicken from Dave's dish, trying to avoid the pretty pungent tomato sauce around it. He picked up the most boring looking bread roll and was buttering it.

"So… uh, Dave," Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief when his dad didn't call him _David_. "You go to Thurston?"

Dave nodded his head mutely. "Transferring after… what happened," he paused. "Um… but I heard that Sydney goes there too? I mean, the football team that they got there is pretty big, and I transferred there pretty late from McKinley too. Not that they'd take me now, you know, _considering_." He paused for a moment, and then met with Sebastian's eyes.

"Sebastian was in Thurston before too," Nathalie happily announced, spooning mac and cheese. "You know, before he applied to that Dalton scholarship. He is pretty smart, even though he spends most of his mental energy plotting revenge."

Sebastian just shrugged shamelessly, but he was annoyed. He didn't want his mom to mention his Thurston days.

"Really?" Dave looked at Sebastian like he was surprised that he never mentioned it. "I thought you were a pretty out kind of guy. And the guys there are kind of assholes to anyone they _know_ is gay." As in, he was wondering about if he was out at the time. If he got beat up or real pushed around like Dave was, and Sebastian just didn't want to fucking talk about it. "But I guess maybes things, you know, changed from when you went there and from when _I_ went there…"

Sydney was real uncomfortable too, as he cleared his throat. "Yeah," fifteen minutes in, he'd already managed to eat like half a pound of mac and cheese. He now started on this gigantic looking chicken thigh and wing that he covered in even more cheese. "Sure."

Dave looked at Sebastian, who just shook his head. A look of recognition filled Dave's face. "Yeah?" his voice was low.

Sebastian mutely nodded his head. If he even had an appetite before all of this, it fucking died. He was now nauseous and wanted to go clock off in bed forever. "It was okay, big guy," he said in a little forcefully. Even he thought that it was pathetic. How could someone have so much shit going on with them? Even Sebastian didn't believe himself no more. How could he have such a fucked-up childhood, a shit time at his school, be fucking raped by his ex and then be told he was maybe going to die? That wasn't normal. It sounded like someone was making shit up so that they could be a victim. And Sebastian Smythe was not a fucking victim of nothing. He didn't care how much crap happened to him. He didn't _care_.

Dave was staring at him, like he was trying to figure him out. Sebastian stayed quiet. There was nothing to figure out about him, okay? What you saw was what you got, and Sebastian was sick of people knowing things about his _past_.

"Hey, you're not eating," Dave decided to mention, and Sebastian noticed that he'd taken like one bite out of his bread.

Sebastian just shrugged. He was trying not to throw up here, so they should be damn lucky that he wasn't puking over a toilet bowl right about now. "Yeah, well, I'll eat later," he finally said, knowing the chances of him inhaling anything later was better. He was sure once he stopped feeling so nauseous, he'd be mainlining Oreo dust and injecting himself with vanilla creme. "Are you staying? I got some stuff I wanna show you." He didn't got jackshit, just a couple of old songs and a 1970s old black-and-white movie. He just wanted an excuse for Dave to stick around longer than just a couple of plates of mac and cheese and dessert, yeah?

When Sebastian asked that, Jean choked on a piece of apple and turned blue. "Staying? In your… _room?"_

Sebastian scoffed. "What? Scared for whatever's left of my tarnished virtue?" his reply made Nathalie glare at him. What? It was the fucking truth. Honestly, it was Dave and his dad that should be worried that he'd be getting chlamydia from Sebastian's pillow or something. Hell, Sebastian went through STD's like Gay Face went through pantyliners. "Dad, we ain't going to be doing nothing. You know, that is if Dave stays anyway," he hoped that he did. He didn't wanna be alone.

"Oh," Dave looked kind of like he finally got what was going on. "Sebastian, I…I can't stay. I have to get home."

"That's okay," Sebastian answered but he couldn't help but feel the pain in his chest when Dave told him this. What did he expect? That this guy would just suddenly go with it when Sebastian didn't even ask him before? When his dad probably was scared to shit about Dave being out of the house for long where he couldn't keep an eye on him? "I mean…just if you wanted," but Dave could read him well. Read that he wanted him to stay here with them being all alone.

There was a sudden silence in the room with Sydney reaching for his third helping of chicken and potato, and his dad pouring himself a glass of water. He only had salad on his plate with the smallest bit of chicken and vegetables.

"Does anyone else in the family have this?" Dave finally asked, daring to disturb the uncomfortable silence they settled in. "You know, like… does anyone have cancer?" the word weighed heavy in the air and Sebastian found himself go stiff.

Sebastian felt the air got knocked out of his lungs, but he slowly shook his head. He didn't know nobody.

"That guy you work with did—you know, have cancer," Dave finally said after a pause.

"Really?" Nathalie looked surprised. She looked at Sebastian as if he was keeping this piece of information from her.

Sebastian snapped his head up because you didn't fucking expect to hear that. "_Hunter_, you mean?" there was no way that he meant that Hunter fucking Clarington, the guy that cleaned the counter-top ten times an hour, used to be sick. Cause if you were that sick and recovered, you'd probably figure out life was way more important than folding tacky pants.

"Yeah, that guy," Dave nodded his head. "He used to go to Thurston now before he got sent to military school," he explained. Shit. It had to be Hunter. What other kid went to military school? "He came back this year after he got 'straightened out'. But I heard that he had like cancer in his blood or bone or something, I'm not like too sure on the details. But like I'm sure he had it since he was a kid? And they think that's why he juiced up; you know? Like everyone sort of knew that he probably didn't feel like…you know, a normal teenager being sick for so long. Like the guys from the football team said they think he used it to like to feel stronger than he actually and his parents thought that he'd go rouge so they sent him away. I guess that's why he's such a di…_jerk!"_ he said, flushing when he remembered he was having dinner with Sebastian's parents. "Not that I'd know if he actually is. I never met the guy."

"He _is_ a dick," Sebastian muttered. No wonder Hunter was such a douche. Who the fuck sent their kid, who just recovered from cancer, off to military school even if they did pump their body full of Arnold anyway?

"Yeah, he is," Sydney perked up, suddenly getting invested in the conversation. He took a sip of his water. "There's no way Clarington had that since he was a kid though. Like…I think he's been going to Thurston for a while since he was part of the football team when it was good. I just got back to playing, and he was there for like a whole season and we won _every_ game. Then he like fainted on the field one day, and we thought he just didn't eat for practice or something. Then the coach told us that Hunter got sick and he wasn't coming back. We saw him in the hospital after they did a bone marrow on him. But we didn't feel like we shouldn't have bothered. I mean... he's not the kind of guy that you support through anything." Sebastian begged to differ. He was the kind of guy that 'you wouldn't support through anything' and he was fucking dying here, crying out for someone to notice how much he needed help.

"Football team usually go around talking about sick kids?" Sebastian asked kind of coldly.

Dave just shrugged. "Thurston is huge, but you remember a kid that got sick." The kind of thing just stuck with Sebastian. He didn't want to be the kid that got sick. He just wanted to feel like people didn't hate him so much no more. "Sorry," he said in a whisper when he noticed the expression on Sebastian's face. His voice dropped down, "Hey, I—"

"That's horrible," Nathalie looked aghast, putting down her spoon. She'd eaten half a plate of the mac and cheese but was weeding out the hot dogs. She put them for Sydney and Sebastian but pretty much found them gross-tasting and artificial, which you know, was what made them great in the first place. "Baby, do…do you know how people in your school are going…going to react when you tell them?" she looked at him with big, doe eyes. "Do you think they'll be nice? I mean… I know I know we shouldn't tell any of your teachers until they book the date for the surgery but…"

Sebastian scoffed. "I'm not telling nobody nothing, okay?" his tone said one thing: _this is not for debate, yeah?_

Nathalie stared at Sebastian like he was insane. "Oh," she whispered instead. Then she perked up, "But-but at least your teachers will—!"

"No," Sebastian shook his head, looking away. Nobody was going to know what was going to happen to him. Not his fucking teachers, not the Warblers, not the Nude Erections—if he could just be the only one to know, that would be great. "Nobody's going to know," he didn't care if the only time they'd know he was sick was when he died. He didn't _care_. "I don't want my fucking hospital bed covered with stuff from people that don't even fucking like me." Sebastian wanted to be miserable and alone just exactly like how he'd been for most of his life. Why did people fucking care about him dying now? Did you think that Kurt and Blaine wanted to give him a real chance from before? Yeah, like they cared.

"Hey, kid, that's not true," Jean looked at him with a softened expression. "I'm plenty sure that your teachers just want the best for you, and your Warbler friends care about you a lot." Like he fucking knew what went on in his life.

Sebastian kept his lips pursed as ever. "Like you care about me?" he snapped. "Honestly, I don't know why you care if I die. It's not like I've ever done anything but fucking disappoint you." When he said those words, Sydney started choking on a piece of apple that was in his mouth and he swigged down some lemonade that was probably his mom's.

When he saw his mom stare at him with shining tearful eyes and his dad being heartbroken, it killed him.

"Hey… hey, I'm sorry," Sebastian felt guilty but that didn't mean that he didn't mean what he said.

The rest of dinner continued to be really awkward, even when they dished out dessert. Sebastian ate just enough to prevent his mom from thinking he was going to starve himself and then he said goodbye to Dave at around nine-thirty. Sebastian just couldn't help but feel so cheated now. He felt like he was living in a fake universe, okay? How could people that didn't care about what happened to him two weeks ago suddenly be afraid he'd die in his sleep? _How?_

Kurt Hummel clocked him in the face before he got a seizure. It wasn't like they were fast on their way to being friends. But now, he cared enough to spend a whole night with him in the ER?

If Sebastian wasn't sick, did you think his parents would care so much if he wasted his life away? He didn't feel like anyone was genuine no more, that it was all fucking fake, and he didn't want it to seep into his fucking Dalton classes either. If people were going to continue treating him like a goddamn criminal, then he'd just take it like he always did.

That night after Dave left, Sebastian climbed into his bed and stared at the ceiling. He really wished that he got someone here to lie down with him. Sure, he knew that Dave couldn't just stay here. And once wouldn't be enough either. He got his own life. Just because Sebastian's life might be coming to a dangerous screeching halt didn't mean that Dave's did, yeah?

Just as Sebastian was tossing and turning in bed, his phone flashed with a bright light in the encompassing darkness. Ring. Ring. Ring. Someone was calling him. _Dave._

"Hey," was the first thing that Dave said when Sebastian answered. "I had a feeling like you can't sleep," he paused for a few more minutes. "You could've _just_ told me you wanted to have sex with me." Sebastian let out a weak smile but didn't say anything to that. He just let Dave talk, but even now, he was starting to feel a little sleepier. "No bar tonight?"

"I feel sleepy right now," Sebastian yawned. "You know, just talking to you, I feel like…"

He could practically feel Dave smile on the line. "You could give 'em a chance you know," he said in a low whisper. "Look, you got so much anger in you, yeah? And it's just hurting you so goddamn much." Sebastian felt that real hard, because he felt like he got this burning pain in his chest every time he thought about everything that happened. "Don't you want it to stop?" he asked softly, in a way that made Sebastian's eyes fill with tears. His fucking everything hurt him so much. "Don't you wanna think better of people? Or do you just wanna live like this? Do… do you wanna die like this?"

"No," Sebastian just shook his head, feeling his heart race a little faster. "It ain't fair," he whispered, voice cracking. The last thing he remembered was that he started crying like a baby. Then maybe five or ten or fifteen minutes later, he closed his eyes and passed out, asleep.


End file.
